


Fictober 2018 In The Old Republic

by Keirra



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Gen, Humor, M/M, One Shot, Prank Wars, Romance, assorted silliness, fictober18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-17 14:43:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 24,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16518452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keirra/pseuds/Keirra
Summary: Collection of entries for Fictober18.





	1. Torian Cadera/Jedi Knight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ship: Torian Cadera and Noara Starspark, cause of course I was going to start with them.
> 
> Day 1 Prompt: “Can you feel this?”

Noara surprised Torian when she hurried into their room. “Can you feel this?” she asked, pressing his hand against her belly.

He frowned, ready to ask what she was talking about when something hit his hand. His breath caught as he stared at her stomach in awe. Their baby kicked again and Torian laughed. Looking up, Noara was smiling brightly. When he felt another kick he asked, “does that hurt?”

Noara shook her head, “no, it feels sort of fluttery, like butterflies. Wasn’t sure what I was feeling when it started actually.”

“I can’t even imagine what this must feel like,” Torian said, grinning as he felt their baby moving. He’d known they were going to be parents for weeks now but this was the first time he’d felt proof beyond his wife’s changing body. The first time it had felt truly real. Keeping his hand on her stomach, unable to bring himself to move it while their child continued to move, he cupped the side of her face with his free hand. “I love you so much,” he said pressing a kiss to her lips and pressing his hand firmer against the movement beneath it, “both of you.”


	2. Mako/Bounty Hunter and Torian/Smuggler

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters/ship: Dubaku Eze and Mako. Guest starring Torian Cadera and Cinlat‘s Sadio Edan
> 
> Day Two Prompt: “People like you have no imagination.”

If there was one thing that always annoyed Dubaku, it was people bitching and moaning about stupid things. Like the weather. It was a waste of time and breath to complain about being cold on Hoth, and listening to the Imp soldiers around him do just that was getting on his last nerve. He needed to shoot something or find a distraction.

If he was with Torian, or almost anyone other than Mako, something would be getting shot and his bets were on one of the whiny soldiers nearby. But she was and tended to frown on violence just because he was annoyed and bored.

Phil beeped from his knee and Dubaku turned in the direction the small droid was pointing in. There, just coming into the base’s courtyard was Torian and Sadio.  _Finally_. They’d said they would be here almost an hour ago, and the second thing that always annoyed Dubaku was people being late and he had an obligation to make sure his vod paid for it.

He heard Mako sigh when he bent down and started gathering some snow in his hands, but she didn’t say anything as he formed a large snowball. Waiting until he was within a good range Dubaku pitched the compacted snow at the Mandalorian.

Just before it hit him, Torian ducked and it flew past him and struck Sadio’s face. The woman stopped in her tracks, sputtering and brushing off the snow. Once her face was clear enough to see she spotted Dubaku and Mako.

Out of the corner of his eye Dubaku could see his girlfriend point at him, selling him out.

The smuggler glared at him and growled, “you’re dead meat Dubaku.”

Dubaku grinned, hooking his arm around Mako’s shoulders and pulling her to his side. “Bring it girlie. Me and Mako can take you.”

Mako laughed, pushing away from him, “leave me out of this. She is going to kill you.” She was more than happy to leave him on his own until a ball of snow hit her chest.

Roaring with laughter, Dubaku quickly made another snowball to throw at Torian. She may have left him to his fate, but Dubaku would avenge his love’s honor.

Phil rushed for cover as an all out war between the two couples broke out, snow flying everywhere and hitting more than one innocent bystander. Their battle cries, curses, and laughter echoed around the base until Torian tackled Dubaku and the two men ended up rolling around and wrestling in the snow.

Sadio and Mako stopped and watched their men playing like boys and exchanged fond smiles. Their lives had been so tense lately it had been ages since they were able to just enjoy themselves like this. Eventually though their antics stopped being cute and the chill set in enough that they demanded they all go inside.

As they walked back into the base, all four wet and snow sticking to their hair, and in Dubaku’s case, horns they could hear several soldiers talking about them, one sneering, “I cant imagine what would possess a group of adults to act like such children.”

“Course you can’t,“ Dubaku grinned, flashing sharp teeth. "People like you have no imagination.”

Torian laughed as Sadio pulled him through the base, bee-lining for her ship to get changed and warmed up. Phil, the reason for their meeting here, followed closely. It was Sadio’s turn to have custody of their shared droid child. Of course Phil belonged to the smuggler but when the little guy decided Dubaku was his second parent they hadn’t had the heart to deny him.

"C'mon big guy, I’m cold,” Mako said, elbowing him in the side.

“Oh,” he said, mock surprise heavy in his voice, “you’re cold? Whatever shall we do? I know!” He scooped her up into his arms, usually something she welcomed but his jacket was soaked and being pressed against his chest made her even colder. Mako shrieked as the wet from his jacket soaked into what little dry clothing she had left. Dubaku laughed and carried her through the base to their ship, determined not to set her down until they reached the shower.

And then only long enough to get her wet clothes off.


	3. Republic Trooper and Jedi Knight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Jurr Jiin and Cinlat‘s Trev Brawlin
> 
> Day Three Prompt: “How can I trust you?”

Jurr was sitting at the back table in the cafeteria pouting. The air was filled with the smell of sweetberry cobbler and she was angry with the cook for saying she couldn’t have any. He said she’d stolen pies and this was her punishment.   
  
She didn’t remember stealing any pie. She didn’t even remember ever eating pie before. Jurr didn’t think she would steal things, she couldn’t explain it but she knew it was wrong. Then again, Jurr had woken up that morning unable to remember her own name.   
  
According to the datapad she found next to her bed remembering wasn’t her strong suit.   
  
All she wanted was a piece of cobbler, no idea if she’d like it but it smelled so good she wanted to try but the mean cook wouldn’t be swayed.   
  
She hated this. Hated being confused and scared. She didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to wake up tomorrow and not remember anything. Jurr didn’t want to be alone anymore and all she wanted was something sweet to eat to make her feel better and she couldn’t even have that. “It’s not fair,” she sniffed.  
  
“What’s not fair?”  
  
Jurr looked up to see a boy with dark hair smiling at her and holding two dessert bowls. He frowned when she looked up at him blankly. “Nevermind, look what I got you.” He set one of the bowls in front of her and she glanced at it suspiciously before glaring up at him.   
  
“I don’t know you.”  
  
“I know,” he said sitting next to her, “we met a few days ago. I’m Trev.”  
  
She frowned at the cobbler. It looked even better then it had smelled. “How can I trust you?”  
  
Trev smiled at her, before saying sincerely, “because we’re friends.”  
  
Jurr wasn’t sure why she believed him, but she did, and she both liked and hated that. Another thing to add to her list of things she hated today. If she couldn’t even remember a friend, what kind of life could she ever have? The realization scared her, that she would be alone forever, but she pushed the thought away because she refused to cry where anyone could see her.  
  
Besides, he got her cobbler and while she didn’t remember eating a dessert before she was pretty sure it was the best thing she’d ever had.


	4. Andronikos Revel/Sith Inquisitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters/ship: Neera and Andronikos Revel
> 
> Day Four Prompt: “Will that be all?”

As a former slave, Neera tended to respect those in serving professions because she could remember being in that kind of position. She hadn’t be paid to wait on people hand and foot, but the principals were the same. Even when she was having a bad day she went out of her way to be kind, considerate and reasonable to her waitstaff.

But if this uppity server made one more move on her man, Neera was going to snap. She could tell Andronikos wasn’t interested in the waitress and that was the only thing that kept her from shocking the cheeky Twi’lek when she leaned over their table to give him a perfect view down her low cut top.

“Will that be all for you handsome?” She asked, her voice low and silky.

Andronikos smiled, obviously enjoying the way Neera’s jaw twitched in annoyance. “I think we’re good,” he said cheekily, reaching under the table to grab Neera’s hand before she did something that might ruin their night out. Not that he disapproved of violence, or that he didn’t think it was super hot when she put someone in their place.

Just that he wanted to finish his drink before they left the place in smoking rubble.

Once the waitress had disappeared into the crowd Neera glared over at him. “You enjoyed that far too much.”

Andronikos grinned and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to his side. He kissed her nose and along the line of scars on her cheek before nipping at her earlobe. “Maybe,” he said into her ear, “it’s kinda flattering to know you’d fight for me.”

She moved away from him to look him in the eye, reaching up to cup her hand around the back of his neck. Neera pulled him in for a firm, demanding, kiss before pulling back and saying, “I’d burn the entire galaxy for you. All you’d have to do is ask.”

“Is that all?” He asked, feigning surprise, “in that case-” Neera cut him off with a playful smack on his arm and he laughed, sitting back and pulling her with him. “Don’t worry, it’s you me and til the stars go cold remember?”

She smiled, pressing closer to him and holding her drink up for him to clink his own against. “Til the stars go cold.” That was something she could drink to.


	5. Koth Vortena/Smuggler

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters/ship: Taé’lyn and Koth Vortena
> 
> Day Five Prompt: “Take what you need.”

“Dammit,” Koth cursed as Taé’lyn entered the Gravestone’s engine room.

“Need a hand?” He didn’t have to look to hear the smile in her voice. She’d been smugly amused at him ever since he had relented to her request to fly their ship just before she crashed it for him.

“No offense Outlander, but this is a bit more complicated than shooting at the bad guys.”

Taé’lyn raised an eyebrow in challenge, “is it now?”

Koth nodded, frowning as he tried again to reach the bolt he needed to loosen to get the panel open and failing. Either whoever designed this ship had freakishly long arms or he was missing a step or two.

“Sure you don’t need any help?”

He glanced over to see her standing with a hand on one hip and a smug grin. “Unless you got a user’s manual hiding in that ridiculous getup, I don’t think you’ll be much help.” He meant it too. Zakuulian’s were known for their flashy, over the top style, but the deep maroon top complete with long dramatic cape that the Outlander had been wearing when Arcann froze them in carbonite was on a whole ‘nother level.

“Oh yes, because only someone with a user’s manual would be able to see that the plate you are wedging your arm behind is removable.”

“What are you talking about?”

She sighed and pushed him out of the way, just enough to reach behind the plate and fiddle for a moment before the entire piece came away from the engine easily. She set it down off to the side and gestured at the bolt he had been fighting with. “See? That way you can reach it with the wrench.”

Koth gaped at her, “how did you know that would come off?”

Taé’lyn laughed. “This isn’t my first time in a engine room flyboy,” she said with a flirty wink before gesturing at a crate she’d left by the door. “I found some more tools and random parts while exploring the ship, take what you need. I’m sure there is more where that came from. Let me know if you need any more help.” Then she swept out of the room, ridiculous cape fluttering behind her.

It took a moment for Koth to collect his thoughts, he was completely taken off guard by her surprising mechanical knowledge. If he was honest, she had kept him guessing since the moment they met - granted that had only been a few hours ago.

Part of him hoped he would never fully figure her out, he was enjoying the constant surprises.


	6. Doc/Jedi Knight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters/ship: Deena Oran and Doc Kimble
> 
> Day Six Prompt: “I heard enough, this ends now.”

When Doc had his third coughing fit in less than five minutes Deena was done listening to him protest. “You’re sick Doc, let me get a medic to look at you.”

He shook his head, trying to smile at her but ruining the effect by coughing again. “C’mon gorgeous you know I don’t get sick,” he insisted once he could.

“Everyone gets sick,” she pointed out, trying to be patient with her husband. They did say doctors made the worst patients but she was willing to bet Doc was the reason that saying was invented.

“Not good looking, fabulously skilled doctors like me,” Doc said, grinning boyishly at her before pulling her into a hug. He pressed several open mouthed kisses to her neck, teasing the spot he knew drove her crazy. “Besides, I can think of much more enjoyable ways to spend our evening.”

Despite knowing he was sick, Deena leaned into his touch. She always had a hard time resisting his charms, ever since the day they met. He almost had her convinced to go along with his “more enjoyable” plans before he pulled away from her neck in another coughing fit.

“That’s it,” she declared, propping her hands on her hips. “I’ve heard enough, this ends now Doc. You need to see a doctor that isn’t you.”

He coughed several more times before giving her a pleading look, “aww gorgeous, don’t be that way.”

“No amount of puppy eyes is going to change my mind, either you see a doctor and get treated before you cough up a lung and die or,” she narrowed her eyes into a glare that let him know she was serious, “you go back to sleeping in the medbay.”

Doc’s mouth open and closed several times as he tried to find the words to get him out of visiting an inferior medic before he sighed. “Fine,” he said like he was surrendering his very soul, “but you are coming with me.”

“Of course I am,” Deena laughed, “that’s the only way I’ll know you actually went.” She slipped her arm through his and started leading him out of their bedroom, “and once you are feeling better we can have that evening you have such big plans for.”

Looking down at her smiling face as she pulled him along, Doc had a feeling even going to a second rate medic would be worth it if that was his reward.


	7. Ava Jaxo/Republic Trooper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters/ship: Markus Agrippa (Trooper) and Ava Jaxo
> 
> Day Seven Prompt: “No worries, we still have time.”

When Markus woke up it took him a moment to recognize his surroundings. He hadn’t taken much time to examine the interior of Ava Jaxo’s room when they entered the night before, all he had needed was the bed and the woman in his arms. He smiled, watching her doze against his chest.

He stretched slightly, working out a kink in his back. The movement woke Ava up and she shifted to smile up at Markus.

“Good morning,” she murmured before her brow furrowed, “what time is it?”

“Early,” he replied. “I don’t need to leave just yet.”

Ava smiled, “that’s good, I don’t think I am quite done with you.”

Markus laughed, running his hand down her back and pulling her tighter against him. “Funny I was thinking the same thing,” he said, rolling them over and settling his weight on top of her. Ava wrapped her arms around his shoulders, kissing him firmly.

He was just running his hands up her thighs, pressing them apart so he could fit himself between them, when his comm rang. Markus sighed, leaning his head against her collarbone for a moment while damning his luck.

“Go on, answer it,” she said, “duty calls after all.”

“Frequently,” he groaned before rolling off of her and reaching for his pants on the floor next to the bed. He unclipped his comm from the belt and answered it. A small holo of Jorgan appeared, arms folded across his chest and eyes closed.

“Jorgan? Why are your eyes closed?”

“Are you decent sir?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“That’s why, Garza tried to contact you on the ship, she has mission for us. Wants it seen to asap.”

Markus groaned again, that figured. “Fine, I’ll be there in an hour.” Without waiting for Jorgan’s response, he clicked off the comm and dropped it on the floor. He turned over to find Ava on her side smiling at him.

“You jinxed us you know,” she said smugly, “saying you didn’t need to leave. That was just asking for an interruption.” Ava frowned, “and there’s no telling when you will be on Coruscant again, whatever shall I do without you?”

“Oh I’ve got no worries about you Ava, you’ll survive,” Markus said with a grin before pulling her close, “besides, we still have time. It only takes 20 minutes to get to the spaceport.”

“I assume you intend to make the most of the time we have left?”

Markus answered her with a hungry, passionate kiss. Actions did speak louder after all.


	8. Mako/Male Bounty Hunter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters/ship: Dubaku Eze and Mako
> 
> Day Eight Prompt: “I know you do.”

Dubaku was still scraping some unidentifiable bit of Nar Shaddaa off his boots when Mako started pacing the Mantis’ common room. He watched her for a moment, lips moving along with her thoughts and arms folded across her chest. He’d seen her do this a couple times, usually when something was on her mind and she wasn’t sure how to bring it up to him.

Or how he would react to it.

That one stung a little, that the slicer still didn’t trust him even after all this time, but he couldn’t blame her. He probably wouldn’t trust himself if the roles were reversed but he  _wanted_  her to trust him.

It was a situation Dubaku was very unfamiliar with.

Finally, after watching her fret for almost five minutes he set his boot down and stood. Mako didn’t notice him, so lost in her thoughts as she paced to the far side of the room unaware of him ghosting her steps. When she turned he caught her shoulders and she shrieked in surprise.

“Don’t do that,” she chided Dubaku as he laughed.

“You should have seen your face,” he grinned, “it was priceless.”

Mako scowled up at him before trying to stomp away. Again, he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

“Alright I’m sorry I scared you, better?” He offered and when she nodded after eyeing him suspiciously continued. “Now tell me what’s got your circuits in a bunch?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mako said as he moved back to his seat. “I’m fine.”

“No, you aren’t. All the pacing and muttering to yourself? Classic ‘something is bothering Mako’ tells.”

She huffed before sitting on the bench across from him, “promise you won’t get angry?”

“That’s a loaded request when I have no idea what it is about,” he said, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “I can promise to try though.”

“Okay,” Mako said, feeling uncertain but knowing that Dubaku was a bit like kath hound with a bone once something caught his attention. There was no way he would let this go. Taking a deep breath and mimicking his position so their faces were level, she decided to just get it over with, “we’re not like the Eidolon, right? We’re different than him?”

Dubaku frowned, “what do you mean?” He wasn’t sure where she was going with this, sure they were both red skinned Zabraks, and the Eidolon shared Dubaku’s great taste in long leather jackets, but that dick had been so high on his own hype that to the hunter the differences between them were night and day.

“I mean, assassins kill people for money. You kill people for money.” Mako watched Dubaku carefully as he mulled over her question, looking for any sign of how he had taken the near accusation in her words. 

When he finally spoke it was to ask quietly, “do you think I’m an assassin?

“Yes, no, maybe,” she said quickly before sighing, “how is what you do any different?”

He shrugged, “some days it isn’t, but I have the option of bringing marks in alive. The people I kill usually deserve it, or they force my hand.”

“Is that really any better? For some of them, like Eidolon, it could be worse turning them over.”

“True, that’s one of those case by case things” he conceded before shaking his head. “Where is this coming from Mako? You knew what you were getting into helping me with the Great Hunt right? This life isn’t sunshine and roses and sometimes that means people gotta die. If that bothers you, this might not be the life for you.” Dubaku’s chest tightened at the thought of her leaving, but he wouldn’t force her to live a life she didn’t want. He’d worked alone before. It sucked ass, but he could do it again.

He just didn’t want to.

“I do get it, I just… I don’t know, I wish there was a better way,” Mako said sadly before smirking. “Besides I couldn’t leave you on your own Big Guy, you need me.  _I know you do_. I’d hate to see you try and get the kind of information I can provide for your jobs.”

“Yeah, yeah, I need you like a hole in the head.”

“Hey!” Mako reached out to smack his shoulder and he caught her hand. He didn’t let go, instead he covered her’s with both of his and gave a soft squeeze.

“Honestly,” he said, meeting her gaze seriously, “I couldn’t have gotten this far without you. All I’m good for is the shooting, it’s you doing the real work here. I do need you, so I hope you’ll stay. I can even try not to kill so many people if that is what you want.”

Mako’s heart was pounding and she was sure she was blushing. She’d never seen him so serious outside of a fight but the quiet intensity in his eyes when he said he needed her made shiver. Unable to meet his gaze she stared at their hands, at his dark red fingers covering her brown skin. She wasn’t he’d ever touched her skin without a glove on before and his hand was warmer than she would have guessed.

He shook her hand slightly, “Dubaku to Mako? Come in Mako? Anyone home?”

She tore her eyes from their joined hands to find him grinning stupidly at her. He was such a doofus sometimes it was hard to remember what he looked like covered in someone else’s blood. Unable to help herself she smiled back. “I wasn’t going to leave, and as nice as not killing everyone would be I don’t want you to get hurt because you were trying to spare me the realities of our job. But yeah, a little less death would be nice.”

“You got it girlie,” Dubaku grinned again. “besides there are plenty of places to shoot someone and leave them alive. Hurts more that way too.”

Mako sighed, though she felt more fondness for the man smiling at her than exasperation. “Not the point Big Guy, but whatever works.” 


	9. Torian Cadera/Jedi Knight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters/ship: Noara Starspark and Torian Cadera
> 
> Day Nine Prompt: “You shouldn’t have come here.”

Torian was confused when he woke up. Not because he was in a med center, he remembered being injured on Voss and he even remembered Dubaku pulling him through the wilderness to get him to a medic.

What he didn’t remember was Noara being there but when he woke up the first thing he saw was her sitting at his bedside. She was slumped over and sleeping with her head pillowed on folded arms on the side of the bed. Her face was turned toward him and even in slumber he could see the tiredness in her face. He hated risking waking her and normally wouldn’t even have reached out to her in favor of caution, but he had to know if she was really there.

Carefully Torian reached out and brushed her cheek with his fingers. He almost sighed when he felt the softness of her skin and the familiar texture of the scar on her face. She was here.

Noara stirred under his touch and her eyes fluttered open. He watched her get her bearings before she noticed he was awake. She sat up immediately, grabbing his hand and holding it in her smaller ones. “Torian, you’re awake,” she gasped, her relief evident in her voice. “How are you feeling cyare?”

He smiled, lightly squeezing her hand, “I’ll be alright. How are you here?”

“Mako called me, told me you were hurt.”

Torian frowned, last he had heard Noara was on Nar Shaddaa. “How long have I been here?”

“Three days,” Noara said, reaching up to run her fingers through his hair to straighten out the tousled locks. “I arrived yesterday.”

“Three days? Damn,” Torian sighed. He hadn’t realized his wounds were so serious. He owed Dubaku for getting him out of the fire so quickly. “Cyar’ika, not to say I’m not happy to see you, but you shouldn’t have come here. What if someone recognized you, or realized what you are?”  

It may be Voss, but the med center he was in was obviously imperial run. While he wasn’t beholden to the Empire, it could still cause some problems if any of the Imperial Military staff or a passing Sith Lord noticed a Jedi sitting in their midst. The danger she had put herself into sleeping here made his head spin.

Noara shook her head. “I don’t care, besides if anyone other than a Sith tried to stop me I can make them ignore me with a wave of my hand.”

“Noara!” Torian gasped, stunned by her words, “but you hate messing with people’s free will.” He’d only ever seen her do it a handful of times, and every time she had lamented the necessity of it.

She grimaced, “I do, but if I had to do it to be by your side I would.” Noara smiled suddenly, laughing lightly, “that’s part of why we don’t form attachments to others. Congratulations you have officially corrupted me Torian.”

Holding a hand to his sore ribs, Torian started to sit up. Noara was quick to move closer and help him, supporting his weight while she arranged the pillows behind him so he could lean against them. When she was done and started to move back to her chair he stopped her, hands on her shoulders, and pulled her close so she was half on the bed with him. She smiled at him as he cupped her face in his hands.

“Do you regret this?” He asked, almost afraid of the answer. Torian didn’t think she would say yes, but she had given up a lot and had to compromise her values in ways he never would have to be with him.

“Oh Torian,” she sighed before kissing him firmly. “I could never regret you.”


	10. Aric Jorgan/Republic Trooper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters/ship: Jurr Jiin and Aric Jorgan
> 
> Prompt: “You think this bothers me?” (Technically it was “You think this troubles me” but there was no way Jurr or Aric would ever say that).
> 
> Trev Brawlin, who is mentioned a few times, belongs to Cinlat as one half of our Space Punk duo.

Jurr growled in frustration as she dug through the fresher cabinet. Every time she leaned forward her hair flopped in front of her eye and she had to push it back behind her ear. It wasn’t quite long enough to stay. Usually this wasn’t an issue, she bought the best hair glue on the market to keep her hair styled properly.

Well she had bought the best hair glue. She was beginning to suspect that she had used the last of it and, once again, forgotten to buy more.

Given her track record that wasn’t an uncommon occurrence but she could have  _sworn_  she bought a whole case not that long ago. Jurr wasn’t one for frivolous purchases, what was the point of buying trinkets and souvenirs when it was almost a guarantee she would forget where it came from? But her hair product she always made sure to buy, and in bulk, so she was very confused that she couldn’t find any of it.

Eventually she had to face the truth. At least until she was able to get to a proper market, her mohawk was but a dream.

She growled again, biting out a curse as she slammed the cabinet shut. They were at least a week out from Coruscant, and with their timetable there wasn’t time to stop off just for her hair products.

Jurr stomped her way out of the fresher and into the common room, plopping down into a chair next to where Aric was cleaning his rifle. He had stopped being “Jorgan” to her sometime ago, when she’d realized just how comfortable she was with him. She’d only ever felt that way around Trev, though this was different somehow. There were still walls between Jurr and the Jedi, things she kept to herself, things she had never told anyone but oddly enough  _wanted_  to tell Aric.

It wasn’t an inclination she had given into, but it was a struggle. The Cather had been astonishingly patient and understanding ever since she had disclosed her condition to him a few months ago but she didn’t think anyone deserved to know what was going on in her head at any given moment. It was bad enough that Trev could feel those shifts in her mood and called her out on it.

Bright green eyes studied her carefully as she fumed. She could almost feel his gaze on her, something that would normally agitate her more, but like everything where Aric was concerned her reaction to him was completely different. Knowing he was watching her, seeing how calm and steady he was as he worked on his rifle, soothed the edges of her anger.

Trev had once tried to explain what it felt like to sense her mind, about the auras people gave off and how stronger auras could influence the people around them. It was a memory she had been mulling over lately, since she found it in a datastick from her youth. She couldn’t help but feel like that was the case with Aric. She wasn’t Force sensitive, at least not enough to use it Trev had said, but she always  _felt_  Aric in a way that was unique to him.

Jurr felt much calmer just being in his presence until she leaned forward to grab a handful of the hard candies she had left on the table earlier. Her loose hair swung forward, blocking her sight and she dropped her head down onto the table with a thump and an annoyed growl.

“Something bothering you Jiin?” Aric asked, his voice carefully neutral.

“Oh no,” Jurr snapped, sitting up and turning to glare at him with her one eye. As she expected, her hair got in the way and she angrily pushed it back. “You think this bothers me?”

Aric didn’t answer. He knew a loaded question when he heard one as much as he knew she wouldn’t appreciate his admission that he liked the way she looked with her hair down. It reached just past her chin, curling under her jaw and tempting him to reach out and run his fingers through it. He could almost imagine the texture it would be, freshly washed and free of the thick product she used to style it to her liking. She was close enough that he could smell her shampoo, the sweet fruity scent she preferred to the more herbal blends Elara used, and he wouldn’t have to lean forward far to press his nose into her flaming red locks.

Before he did something he would regret Aric cleared his throat and turned away from her. “If it bothers you so much, why didn’t you spike it like normal?”

“Golly gee Aric, I sure am glad you are around to give such wonderful advice,” she said sarcastically, propping her cheek on her hand to lean against the table. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

Aric sighed in the way he usually did when they spoke. The sigh that told her she was being exasperating and that he wished she would knock it off. It didn’t always work, in fact it usually encouraged her to be more of a brat than usual. Today she just wasn’t in the mood to push his buttons.

“I’m out of hair glue,” she admitted miserably, “I must have forgotten to buy more when my stocks were running low and now it will be weeks before I can get my hands on the good stuff.”

“And this has you all worked up?”

She sighed. “Yes okay it does,” she confessed. “I don’t do well with change, you know that. The more routine my life can be the better for my memory. Besides, it keeps getting in the way. I only have one eye to begin with, having hair constantly in my face it doesn’t help.”

Putting down his rifle, Aric stood up. “Wait here,” he said gruffly and left the room before she could respond. He returned a few minutes later, a hand held behind his back. “Close your eye,” he ordered.

Jurr arched a red eyebrow at him, “I think someone is forgetting who the commanding officer in the room is.”

“Aren’t you the one always calling me a spoilsport? And now you won’t even close your eye so I can give you something?”

Jurr laughed, “alright, alright. I’ll play along.” Jurr closed her eye and held a hand out expectantly. “Give me my surprise.” She heard him cross the room before something small and round was placed in her palm. As he placed it there his fingers brushed against her hand and her breath caught in her throat. She wanted to grab his hand, but she wasn’t idealistic enough to think he would welcome her touch.

“You can look,” he said when she didn’t immediately open her eye. Aric watched in anticipation as her amber eye fluttered open, first blinking up at him before she glanced down at her palm.

“Aric,” she gasped his name in surprise, staring down at the tub of her favored brand of hair glue. “Where did you get this?”

He turned away slightly, not meeting her eye. “I noticed you were running low and hadn’t bought more. I, well,” he sighed heavily before meeting her gaze dead on, “I didn’t want you to run out because you forgot.”

Eye wide and lips parted in surprise, Jurr gaped up at him for a split second before dropping the plastic container on the table and launching herself at him. Her arms wound around his shoulders, hugging him tightly. Aric took a staggering step backward as her body impacted his own before regaining his balance. For an awkward moment he held his hands away from her, unsure what to do. This was unprecedented. She’d never hugged him before.

“Thank you Aric,” she murmured, the sincerity in her words palpable, and prompted him into action.

Aric wrapped his arms around her, leaning his head down close to her hair and unable to stop himself from breathing in her scent. He had wondered what this would feel like, holding her in his arms, but his imagination didn’t even come close to reality. He had to stop himself from protesting when when she stepped away from him.

She grinned brightly up at him. “I mean it, thank you,” she repeated, “you didn’t have to do that for me but it means…” Jurr’s voice dropped off as she picked the tub back up, turning it over in her hands. “It’s one of the most thoughtful things anyone has ever done for me.”

Allowing himself a rare smile, Aric nodded even as his heart hurt for her. It wasn’t any kind of grand gesture, just buying a toiletry he noticed she was low on, and the idea that no one had ever done something so simple for her saddened him. “Anytime Jurr,” he said before turning back to his rifle. “Now go do your hair before it makes you mad again.”

Jurr laughed before shooting him a sloppy salute, “yes sir.”


	11. Arcann/Jedi Consular

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters/ship: Caoimhe, Jedi Consular, and Arcann
> 
> Day Eleven Prompt: “But I will never forget!”

Caoimhe wasn’t surprised to wake up and find that Arcann wasn’t in bed. It was a common routine now. He’d come to bed with her, hold her while she drifted off to sleep and once he was sure he wouldn’t wake her he’d get up. She had tried to convince him to get more rest, that it would do his mind and body good, but the horrors of his past wouldn’t allow it.

She sat up and looked toward the seating area in their room, hoping he hadn’t gone wandering around the base again. To her relief, she could see him in the dim light, sitting on the curved couch and scrolling through a datapad.

Her movement caught his attention and Arcann looked up, concern visible on his face in the glow of the datapad. “Is the light bothering you?”

She shook her head, pushing the blankets back and getting out of bed. Arcann set his datapad down and watched Caoimhe cross the room to join him on the soft. She sat down close to him, her thigh pressed against his own and leaned her head against his shoulder. Taking his hand and interlacing their fingers together she asked, “have you sleep at all?”

Arcann stiffened next to her and that was all the answer she needed. Caoimhe sighed, turning to face him properly. “What are you doing sitting up in the dark?”

“Reading,” he answered, “the updated casualty reports from the war were published.” He had been going over the numbers, working on committing them to memory. Arcann felt it necessary that he know how much damage he had done to the galaxy.

Caoimhe frowned, reaching for his datapad and scrolling up to see exactly what he had been reading. “Oh Arcann, you can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

“I have to know Caoimhe,” he said quietly, his voice a low rumble in the stillness of their room. “I can never make up for what I’ve, but I won’t be ignorant to the pain I’ve caused.”

“That doesn’t mean you need to torture yourself like this,” she said, squeezing his hand and rubbing her other hand up his arm comfortingly. “I hate seeing what it does to you. The toll it takes.”

“But I will never forget!” Arcann said sharply before taking a deep breath and looking away from the woman pressed against his saide. “I can’t let myself forget. None of it.”

Reaching up to touch his cheek, Caoimhe turned his face to look at her. “I’m not saying you should forget, but I don’t want to see you let that define you. You are more than the sum of your past Arcann. The man you are today matters more than the one you were before. You’ve said it yourself, you have a long way to go to make amends and I will be there every step of the way but you won’t accomplish anything making yourself miserable.”

Arcann watched her carefully for long enough that she started to wish she could read his thoughts better. Anything to have an idea if she was getting through to him. She was about to ask when he lifted his cybernetic hand toward her, hesitating just before brushing her cheek. Caoimhe closed the distance, leaning her face into his open metal palm.

“How can you stand to be near me, knowing the things I’ve done?” He asked softly, brushing his metal fingers across her cheek. “With all the awful things I’ve done to you?”

“I find it harder to be away from you really,” she said with a fond smile. “I like being near you. I like,” her smile lifted up into a smirk, and she leaned further into him, pressing her chest against his arm and side, “I like feeling you next to me. Will you please come back to bed my love?”

She could feel him shudder at her words and hear the sharp breath he took before he had his hand around her waist and pulled her across his lap.

“Somehow,” Arcann said, leaning forward so she could feel his breath on her ear as he spoke, “I don’t think you have sleep on your mind.”

Caoimhe laughed, “not anymore I don’t.”


	12. Aric Jorgan/Republic Trooper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters/ship: Jurr Jinn and Aric Jorgan
> 
> Dy Twelve Prompt: “Who could do this?”

It was a quiet morning on the Fury, one Aric was enjoying after the chaos of the night before. He was starting to think Jurr would never stop surprising and, most of all, confusing him. She had invited him to have a few drinks with her after dinner, and that had been only the first surprise of the evening. They had sat together in the common area, her tossing back far more than he was, while chattering his ear off about everything and nothing at the same time. He had been content to nurse his drink and listen. Jurr wasn’t exactly shy, but she didn’t ramble mindlessly when she was sober. There were times he would swear she was weighing every single word carefully, choosing what she said with the utmost care, even if it was a casual conversation.

However a few drinks in and it was like that went completely away. She had started by telling him how much she liked the colors of his eyes, but that the shape was so hard to draw just right. He hadn’t even known she had tried drawing his eyes, let alone that they were a difficult shape. Before he could think to question it, she had moved on. She cycled through many topics, eventually landing on how dreary the inside of the Fury was.

“There is no color in here!” She had exclaimed, before declaring, “I cannot live like this, not again!”

Aric had watched in fascinated silence as she rushed out of the room, shouting about having the “best idea ever!” and returned with a crate full of art supplies he hadn’t even known she owned. He knew she sketched, she did it all the time on her datapad though she never shared her work, but the traditional supplies surprised him.

Though not as much as when she opened a tub of paint and smeared some of it on the wall. Or when she grabbed him, staining his fur with bright shades of blue and yellow, and pulled him over to help her.

The end result was the mural he was looking at while drinking his morning coffee. It was an explosion of color, taking up an entire wall of the common area, filled with abstract shapes and smears amid more complicated designs she had worked meticulously on. Aric could easily pick out the bits he did, even when she was just smearing paint across the wall it ended up looking more elegant and deliberate than his more clumsy bits.

At first he had been unsure about her idea, he wasn’t bothered by the pain gray walls inside the ship himself, but he had to admit he liked it now that it was there. It made the space feel lighter, softer. More like a place people lived than worked, and since they did both there it was a nice contrast to the rest of the vessel.

He wasn’t ready to call a “home” but this bit of personalization, this bit of Jurr she had shared was a step in that direction.

Aric was still in the common room, scrolling through the morning news on his datapad, when Jurr finally emerged from her room. She was a mess, hair sticking in all directions and bits of paint covering her from head to toe. The woman stumbled through the common room without acknowledging Aric’s presence in the quest for caff. Once she made it to the kitchen Aric turned his attention back to his pad, satisfied that she would be a bit more human after she had some caffeine in her.

He heard Jurr step back into the room a moment before she gasped and her coffee mug shattered on the floor at her feet. Aric jumped up from his chair, looking around for whatever had startled her. Jurr wasn’t a jumpy woman so it must have been something shocking.

After establishing that nothing new was in the room, he turned to Jurr to demand an explanation but the words died on his lips when he saw her expression. She was staring at the wall, her single eye wider than he had ever seen, and her jaw slack. He watched as she tried several times to speak before she managed to croak out a question.

“Who could,” her voice caught again and she cleared her throat before stepping over the broken mug toward the mural and reaching a hand up as though to touch it, “who would do this?”

Aric pinned her with a hard stare, “what do you mean? You did this. Last night.”

Jurr jerked her hand back quickly and he watched in a kind of morbid fascination as her awed expression was wiped away and replaced with a more familiar smirk. “Of course I did,” she said, “I was just admiring my work.”

Again he had the feeling she was choosing each word carefully. Whatever wall the alcohol last night had brought down was back up, firmly in place, between them.

But her confusion when she asked about the mural was genuine, he was sure of it. Her quiet smile as she examined the colors and designs showed no signs of pride or recognition. If he didn’t know better, he would think this was the first time she had seen it. But that wasn’t possible, Aric was sure of it. She hadn’t drunk enough to blackout and she had actually been rather sober when she finally called it a night and went to bed.

So how was it possible she had forgotten it in a matter of hours?

Reaching out a hand, Jurr brushed her fingers reverently across a swirl of green. “I really like this part,” she said softly, like she was talking to herself.

Stepping up next to her, mindful to stand on her right so she could see him, Aric followed the trail of her fingers with his own. “I did that bit,” he said, turning his hand over to show her where the paint had refused to wash out, “see?”

Her smile widened into a proper grin, “you painted with me. That’s right. It looks better in here now doesn’t it? More like a home I think.”

“Yeah?” Aric asked, looking around at the still mostly sterile and industrial looking environment, “is that what this ship is to you?”

“The only one I’ve ever known,” Jurr said, none of the careful consideration present in her voice. She laid a hand on his arm, squeezing lightly. “Thank you for helping me liven it up. I hate gray walls.”

Aric nodded at her words and she stepped away, casting her eye around the room before laughing. “We are going to need more paint.”


	13. Balic Cormac and Jedi Knight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Noara Starspark and Balic Cormac
> 
> Day Thirteen Prompt: “Try harder, next time.”

Noara ducked below the swing of the vibroblade Cormac wielded. She gave him a quick shove with her shoulder, pushing him off balance and allowing her to scramble away from him toward her own weapon. He had knocked it out of her hands earlier when she had underestimated the strength of his blow.

Curling her hand around the hilt, she just managed to get to her feet and block his next swing. She was gasping for breath as he pushed her back, overwhelming her with his superior physical strength.

They had been at this for almost an hour now, trading blows and dancing around the training room together. Noara was feeling the strain. In a battle of strength she didn’t have a chance of beating the larger man. She couldn’t spare the distraction of looking at the clock, but she was sure it was almost time.

He had backed her almost to the edge of the circle they were using as their boundary when the clock chimed.

Grinning ferally Noara pushed him away with the Force, sliding him several feet across the floor. “My turn,” she said, pressing the attack and following him across the room, each swing of her vibrosword landing harder than before now that she was allowed to augment her strength with the Force.

They had been doing this for a few weeks now, meeting in the training room to see how hard they could push one another. They set a timer to go off every 15 minutes and each time it off signaled the next part of their exercise, namely whether Noara was allowed to use the Force or not. It had started after a heated, and drunken, debate in the cantina over whether her prowess in battle was talent, the Force, or a mixture of both.

Naturally the only way to answer that was to start sparring regularly with, and without, the Force.

At first that was all it had been, an experiment to put an end to a drunken debate, but it had turned into something more. Noara needed to know she could manage without the Force. That she was more than just her connection to it. At first Cormac hadn’t understood her reasoning, but had been willing to humor her. Now he was determined to help her however he could, even if it was to keep her from working too hard to hurting herself.

There was a noticeable change in Noara’s agility and strength as she pressed the attack. Cormac was loosing ground, but still managing to block her every blow. Having a single blade was still a handicap for the Jedi, having spent more time focusing on her dual wielding. She swung her weapon in an overhead arc, aimed at his shoulder and he blocked it, pushing back against her. Noara tried to hold her ground, but could feel herself starting to slip across the floor.

Thinking quickly, they were almost done and she was not going to let Cormac win again, Noara focused on the larger man’s knees. Reaching for the Force, she knocked his legs out from under him. The big man went down, hard, on his back.

Noara froze for a moment, worried she had hurt him, and that gave him time to get his bearings and knock her own legs out from under her. She fell onto the floor next to him, gasping as she tried to catch her breath, as the timer went off again. She closed her eyes and hit the floor with her fist in frustration.

She wasn’t good enough, not enough to stop it from happening again. Noara hadn’t spoken this thought out loud, but she had hoped that amping up her training would help her be strong enough to keep her fears at bay.

When she went to hit her fist against the floor again, a large hand caught her’s. Noara opened her eyes to see Cormac kneeling beside her and looking down at her kindly.

“Come on, up you go,” he said, helping her to her feet. Once she was standing and he was satisfied she wasn’t hurt he covered her head with a large hand and ruffled her head fondly. “Don’t be so hard on yourself Noara-doll, you are getting better.”

Sighing, she pushed his hand off her head. “That’s nice of you to lie like that. I just have to… try harder. Next time,” she nodded, “I will do better next time.”

Settling his hands on her shoulders, Cormac hunched over to meet her gaze. “I mean it. No good will come of pushing yourself too hard Noara. These things take time,” he squeezed her shoulders comfortingly before wrapping an arm around her back and starting to lead her out of the room. “Let’s go get some tea and see what trouble we can stir up with Fynta eh?”

Noara laughed, leaning into his side, feeling a bit better already. At first she had hated the idea of being assigned a quartet of soldiers to “supervise” her but she never imagined the emotional support having them around would bring. Even Jorgan, who was about as good at expressing his emotions as a Jedi, was an integral part of her new support system.

It was different that what she was used to but now Noara didn’t know how she ever lived without it.

She grinned up at Cormac, “I’m sure we can find some trouble. Fynta and trouble do go hand in hand don’t they?”

Cormac laughed, “that they do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is from an AU Cinlat and I have been discussing for a while, where at some point a young, less experienced (and non-canon JK) version of Noara gets herself into some trouble and as a result ends up with a semi-retired Havoc squad accompanying her on her journeys as, well, basically babysitters. I am pretty sure we are calling this story Shereshoy.


	14. Corso Riggs/Smuggler

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters/ship: Keeleigh Noir and Corso Riggs
> 
> Day Fourteen Prompt: “Some people call this wisdom.”

“All I’m saying Captain is that you haven’t really given it the proper thought,” Corso said, reaching across the dejarik table between them to move a piece. “You tease and flirt with every man you meet, but you never once considered me, did you?”

That’s not true, Keeleigh almost said. She’d considered him to great lengths and come to the same conclusion every time. She feared where a relationship with him would lead. Someday she might want a little house on the frontier of some planet, complete with kids and animals and a picket fence, but right not she liked the score.

Keeleigh was still too in love with space for that.

“There’s a good reason for that Corso,” she said when she did answer him, waving him back so she could see her pieces and make a move.

“There is?”

She laughed, “for one you still call me Captain when we have known one another for over a year. I might be proud of the title, but I do have a name.”

“Maybe I just like calling you that, Keeleigh,” he said, drawing out the syllables of her name before grabbing her hand as she tried to draw it away from the board. “And you don’t really expect me to believe that do you?”

Keeleigh sighed, “I kinda wish you would.”

“No, you don’t,” Corso chuckled, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. “If you did you’d tell me a better lie.”

For a long moment Keeleigh found herself unable to look away from their joined hands. His was so warm and the contrast of his dark skin against her vibrant green was very pretty but it only served to remind her of how unprepared she was to go down the path he was asking her to take.

When he gave her hand a small squeeze she looked up from their hands to meet his gaze. Corso was watching her carefully and she could see the tentative hope in his eyes. This conversation was nothing new, the Mantellian had made his feelings for her clear not long after they had met and while she had never acknowledged returning them, she also never actually turned him down. That was a distinction he had obviously noticed.

A selfish part of her knew she was stringing Corso along and that it was terribly unfair to him but when he looked at her like this she wanted to throw caution to the wind and see where this could lead.

Before she lost her nerve, Keeleigh decided to tell him the truth. “You aren’t the kind of man one teases and flirts with Corso,” she said quietly. “You’re the kind of man a woman falls in love with. The kind they marry and settle down with and I’m… I’m not ready for that Corso. I don’t know if I will ever be that girl.”

“Maybe you just aren’t ready because you haven’t given me a try?” Corso asked, leaning across the table so he could reach to cup her cheek with his hand. Despite herself, Keeleigh leaned into the contact with a soft smile. “I wish you would but believe me, I’d never force you to do anything you don’t want Keeleigh.”

Her smile widened when he said her name, she hadn’t been entirely lying when she said she wanted him to use it. She loved the sound of it on his tongue.

Corso leaned back into his chair, releasing her hand and she almost frowned at the loss his warmth.

“I don’t want to rush you,” he said, putting on a knowing smile, “when the time is right it will happen.”

“Wow,” Keeleigh laughed, pushing the tension of the moment away, “that was pretty deep farm boy.”

“Some people call this wisdom.”

“Yeah well, wisdom is overrated.” She gestured at the almost forgotten game between them, “It’s your move Corso.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head even as he reached out to move a piece. “It’s yours.”


	15. Aric Jorgan/Republic Trooper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters/ship: Jurr Jiin and Aric Jorgan
> 
> Day fifteen Prompt: “I thought you had forgotten.”

Jurr tensed under Aric’s hands as he cleaned the roadrash on the outside of her thigh. He was trying to be gentle, something he wasn’t exactly well versed in, but with Elara out at the moment it was up to him to take care of Jurr when she had crashed her speeder.

He wouldn’t feel half as stressed about tending her wounds if she hadn’t hit her head as well. Having to convince a hurt, confused Jurr who didn’t recognize him to accompany him back to the ship and let him start cleaning her wounds made everything twice as hard. Once he had gotten her laid down in her bed she had closed her eye. From the way her implant was flashing on her brow, he knew she was trying to recover any of her memory she could. Aric didn’t have to ask why she didn’t do a full reboot, he already knew she didn’t like the idea of being unconscious while people touched her.

A lifetime of surgeries had taught her that waking up afterward was rarely pleasant. She might not remember the surgeries but it was a well ingrained fear. 

She trusted him, when she knew who he was, enough to share a bed and sleep so it didn’t offend him that she didn’t trust him that much now. It hurt, seeing the suspicion in her amber eye and feeling her pull away from his touch, but he knew the score before deciding to pursue this relationship the same way he knew no one else had ever been patient and understanding enough to give her a chance before.

It wasn’t easy, stars knew he could do without the complications or the fear every time she hit her head, but honestly he wouldn’t have it any other way. Not that he would admit it.

Jurr’s single eye fluttered open when he carefully covered her thigh in kolto, and she smiled at him. “Hey you,” she said softly.

“Hey yourself,” Aric said, reaching for a roll of bandages to wrap around her leg. “Do you know me?” That was how he always asked, when he wasn’t sure, instead of asking if she remembered. He’d done that once and could tell it made stressed her out to not remember someone who implied she should.

“I do.” She sat up gingerly after he finished tying the bandage and reached for his hand, squeezing it in her smaller one. “I think I’ll always know you Jonas.”

Aric stiffened, his eyes wide and pressed his lips tightly together. Jurr frowned at his reaction, “did I say something wrong?”

He nodded, taking a deep breath and releasing it while feeling one wave of emotion after another. Shock, hurt, anger, confusion and grudging acceptance passed through him before he was able to speak. “Jorgan,” he said, “my name is Aric Jorgan.”

Her shoulder slumped and she dropped his hand, “oh. I’m sorry.”

Moving to sit next to her on the bed, “It’s alright, you can tell me you don’t remember. I get it.”

Jerking her head up to look at him she barely missed headbutting him. “But I do remember you it’s just the name,” she paused and blew out a breath, lips sticking out in a pout, “the name is wrong.”

“Really?” he asked, taking her hand in his. “And what do you remember?”

Jurr leaned forward, cupping the side of his face with her free hand. “I remember the first time you kissed me. You took my waist so tightly you left little marks on my side. You felt so bad when you saw the little bits of blood on your claws but I think if you hadn’t held me so tightly I would have fallen,” she smiled fondly up at him, “it was one hell of a first kiss.”

Her words shocked Aric, of all the things he had expected her to remember that wasn’t it. He had assumed it was up to him to keep the memory of moments like that alive, for the both of them, and it was a responsibility he took seriously. The welcome surprise that she had a memory of that moment made his heart soar. “You remember that?” he asked when he could form the words.

“I do,” she nodded, still smiling. “It’s one of my fondest memories. I’ve even backed it up several times, just in case. I don’t want to lose a single moment of my time with you so I try to protect the important ones.”

“I thought you had forgotten,” he said honestly.

“I think some people get under your skin,” Jurr said, shifting to climb into his lap and meet his gaze with her eye. “I think they get into your core, you soul.” She closed the distance between them, capturing his lips in a kiss that stole a surprised growl from him. Aric grabbed her waist, pulling her tighter against him.

When Jurr pulled away she cupped his face in her hands, rubbings her thumbs along his cheekbones. “That’s what you’ve done to me. I get confused sometimes, and I might forget things, but I’ll always know you,” she moved one of her hands to take his and cover her chest, above her heart, “right here where I’m whole.”


	16. Jedi Knight and Republic Troopers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Noara Starspark, Fynta Wolfe and Balic Cormac. Fynta of course belongs to Cinlat.
> 
> Day Sixteen Prompt: “This is gonna be so much fun!”

 

“I could do that,” Fynta boasted and she scrambled onto the back of the sofa. “They say GWL’s all faked anyway.” Balic and Noara turned as one to watch their fearless leader knock the rest of her drink back before leveling them with a lopsided grin.

Noara scooted further away from the area Fynta signaled to be her chosen landing point and glanced at the recording of the latest Galactic Wrestling League match. “Want me to catch you?” She’d drank as much as everyone else but was almost certain she could keep the Mandalorian woman from hurting herself too much.

Fynta blew air threw her lips, arms failing when she unbalanced herself. “Cormac, rewind that and enhance. I need to see exactly how it’s done.”

Grabbing the remote, Balic hit the rewind button. The athletes on the screen moved in a blur of frenzied activity until he paused and hit the enhance button. The screen focused in on the two contenders in the ring, one half of the Mirialan Brothers of Devastation Dax and The Subjugator. Their tag team partners, Dax’s brother Pax and a giant Zabrak that only answered to the name “Spike”, stood on the ring apron outside the ropes.

Focused carefully on the screen Fynta waved her hand at Cormac, “hit play.”

The scene came to life, Dax rushing at The Subjugator and driving his shoulder into the other man’s torso, a successfully executed spear. The Subjugator when down hard, his back slamming into the mat. Dax leapt to his feet, throwing his hands in the air and cheering at the crowd who responded eagerly.

The camera panned over the crowd, a diverse mix of all various races and signs being waved in the air to cheer, or demean, various athletes. The view turned back to the ring to show that while Dax was pandering to the crowd, his brother Pax having turned around as well to encourage their cheering, The Subjugator had rolled to his feet. The taller human stalked up behind Dax who turned around as the crowd had started yelling to warn him.

The Mirialan turned as The Subjugator raised his hand. Before he could react, the larger man grabbed Dax’s throat in one hand and threw his tattooed green arm over his shoulder.  His other hand on his opponents hip, grasping tightly, The Subjugator heaved Dax into the air and chokeslammed him into the mat.

The crowd gasped and cheered as The Subjugator turned to the corner where Pax looked on in shock at what had happened to his brother. Grinning smugly the human walked backwards, stepping on the prone Dax’s stomach as he went, and reached behind him so that his partner could tag his hand. Spike slapped his hand and climbed up the turnbuckles to stand on the top rope as his partner ducked out of the ring.

“This is it, this is it!” Fynta said excitedly, leaning forward slightly from her perch on the back of the couch to see better.

Just as Dax was starting to recover from the chokeslam, Spike leap off the top rope, twisting his body around in a back flip before landing across Dax’s chest. Over the cheers of the crowd as Spike got the pin, winning the match, the announcers were talking excitedly about Spike’s perfect corkscrew shooting star press.

“Yeah, I can totally do that,” Fynta boasted again.

Noara glanced between her and the screen, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Are you sure you can do this? I mean I could do it but then I can jump 30 meters without so much as a running start.

Fynta scoffed, “no one likes a show off Noara.”

The Jedi laughed, “then no one loves anyone in this room.”

“She’s got ya there boss!” Cormac snickered, clapping his hand heavily on the younger woman’s shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah I get it. We are a bunch of showoffs but boasts like that make Noara the worst of us all.”

Noara grinned, folding her arms across her chest, “you’re just jealous. Now are you doing this or just going to perch there like a hawk-bat?”

“I am doing it alright,” Fynta said, standing back upright on the back of the couch. “I just need something to land on.”

“What do you mean…” Cormac started to ask before noticing the way both women were eyeing him expectantly. “You gotta be kidding.”

“C’mon, this is gonna be so much fun!” Fynta grinned, “I’ll let you do that move Gova did to Si Jo last week, the one you said you wanted to try.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, “really? You’re gonna let me suplex you?”

Noara was quick to jump in, seeing that he needed more convincing. “Yeah, and you can giant swing me.”

Cormac’s eyes widened. He had wanted to try that one ever since he had seen “Savage” Sloz Temmu do one several weeks ago. “Deal. What do I do?”

Fynta gestured at the floor, “just lie down and don’t move.” Noara stepped back as he settled on the floor and nodded that he was ready. “Here goes nothing,” Fynta said just before leaping into the air.

Hours later all three were sitting in the medical bay, eyes fixed on the floor as Elara lectured them. No one had been seriously injured, just a few bumps, bruises and a possible sprained wrist, but that didn’t stop the medic from giving her husband, commander and resident Jedi a piece of her mind.

“Honestly you three, what are we going to do with you?” She said, pacing and refusing to look up at them. “What if someone was seriously hurt and we got a mission? And what kind of example does this set for Tayl?” Elara stopped her pacing and shot a look where Aric was standing near the door. Unlike Elara he had no difficulty glaring disapprovingly at the three troublemakers. “Do you have anything to add?”

He folded his arms across his chest and met Fynta and Cormac’s stares. Noara was still sheepishly looking at the floor. “You three do know that ‘don’t try this at home’ isn’t a challenge, right?”

Noara’s head snapped up and she looked at him, obviously trying not to smile. “Does that mean it’s okay if we do it somewhere else?”

Aric gaped at the Jedi for a moment. That was the kind of response he expected from his wife but not from the once soft spoken and well-mannered Jedi they had been assigned to. Finally, he closed his mouth and growled under his breath, muttering about the bad influence his wife was on everyone she met as he stalked out of the room. Elara shook her head and followed him, intent on spending some time with her son instead of the three children on her examining table.

They were barely out of the room before Fynta, Cormac and Noara burst into near hysterical laughter. 


	17. Theron Shan/Sith Inquisitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters/ship: Rugama Neiu and Theron Shan
> 
> Day Seventeen Prompt: “I’ll tell you but you’re not gonna like it.”

Theron traced his finger lightly down the intricate scarring on Rugama’s face. He hated the idea of how much they must have hurt, but couldn’t deny the alien characters fascinated him. She smiled up at him as he dragged his finger across her lips, the movement shifting the scars there under his touch. They were curled up together in bed, something that was quickly becoming Theron’s favorite pastime.

He enjoyed other things they did together of course, but there was something about just relaxing in bed with her in his arms that soothed his worries and tension away. It was a sentiment he knew she shared, Ru had told him more than once how much she enjoyed these quiet moments in the chaos that was their life.

“Sometimes I feel like I’ve been running my whole life long,” she’d said, “relaxing like this is a rare treat. Rarer still is how safe you make me feel.”

Ru giggled as his fingers traced the scarring under her chin, “that tickles Theron.”

“Does it now?” Theron leaned his head forward to run his tongue across the scarring on her neck and up her chin. She laughed, squirming under his ministrations and pushed back against his shoulders playfully.

Theron pulled back so he could see her face again and on a whim voice a question he had wondered about since the first time he saw her up close. “Do you know what these say?”

Her reaction was immediate, the humor draining from her face and her body tensing in his arms. “I do,” was her stiff reply. He looked at her expectantly and she glanced away, “you shouldn’t ask questions you don’t want answers for.”

“I’d like to decide that myself,” Theron said carefully.

Ru sat up, leaning against the headboard. “Okay, I’ll tell you but you’re not gonna like it.”

“Are you sure?” Theron frowned, “you don’t have to if you’d rather not.”

She took his hand in hers, running her thumb across his knuckles, “we said no more secrets and you should probably know.” Ru took a steadying breath before meeting her lover’s eyes. “They’re names.”

“Names?” Theron asked, a sinking feeling in his gut as he considered the implication of her words.

“Of my owners, from before,” she paused and looked around the room, gesturing vaguely, “before all this.”

Theron didn’t know how to react to that, the knowledge that the scars he had kissed and caressed countless times were the names of the worst figures in her past. He as torn between the familiar anger that always burned in his chest when he thought about her time as a slave on Ziost and the sudden fear that every time he touched them it might stir up those terrible memories.

He had always assumed they were something in relation to her Sith training, it wasn’t unheard of after all. Many Sith had tattoos or markings that indicated their leaning toward the dark side.

A soft hand on the side of his face pulled him from his thoughts. “Don’t look so sad, it was a long time ago.”

Leaning into her touch, Theron studied her face and tried to imagine what she would look like without her scars. “Have you ever,” he paused, debating if he should ask until she raised an eyebrow at him. “Have you thought about having them removed?”

“Ah, only about a million times,” she said with a smile. “Oddly enough it was one of the few things I wanted back then but once it was an actual possibility I didn’t do it. I may not like how I got them, or what they represent, but they as much a part of me as any other bit. Removing them won’t change the past.” Ru leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips, “besides I happen to enjoy how you pay them such special attention.”

“Well, in that case,” Theron said with a grin, pulling her closer his mind already forming plans of how to show her what other parts of her body deserved his special attention.


	18. Aric Jorgan/Republic Trooper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters/ship: Jurr Jiin and Aric Jorgan
> 
> Day nineteen Prompt: “Oh please, like this is the worst I have done.”

Aric Jorgan was just finishing reassembling his rifle when he heard Jurr return from her shopping trip. He would normally go with her when she went shopping, especially when it was to restock their foodstuffs, but he had been elbow deep in rifle parts when she decided she needed to get out and stretch her legs. Knowing he hated walking away in the middle of a task, she had insisted she could handle it on her own.

She had even shown him her very specific list on her datapad before she left.

Wiping his hands on with a rag, Aric stood and went to see how her trip had been. When he walked into the common area and saw her shopping spread across the table he froze.

Jurr was standing next to the table, pulling things out of bags and examining each item carefully. It was easy to see that not a single item from her list was on the table because they were all from the same shop.

A sweets shop.

Aric tried not to sigh. This was part of why he usually went with her, just in case she had a lapse of memory. Stars help him, he loved the woman, but her mind was rather flighty.

She looked up at him and, without even a hint of the confusion that accompanied a memory lapse, smiled sheepishly. “I couldn’t help myself.”

“You mean you did this on purpose?” He asked, gesturing at the piles of candies and sweets. “There is enough here you could open your own shop.”

Jurr perched her hands on her hips. “Oh please, like this is the worst I have done.”

“It’s pretty damn close,” Aric responded, folding his arms across his chest and remembering the time she had gone shopping for clothing and come back with a baby reptile of some sort that they couldn’t possibly keep. Her sadness at having to return her impulsively purchased pet had almost swayed him to let her keep it but a military vessel during a war was not the place for an animal.

She’d made him promise her repeatedly that he would get her a pet when they finally retired someday. He had made many promises like that, things she wanted someday but was scared she wouldn’t remember.

Frowning, Jurr dropped her arms. “Well, I don’t actually remember the worst so you are probably right but I just had to Aric.” From the tone of her voice, he could tell something was bothering her.

Aric moved to stand next to her, looking more closely at the candies on the table. It really looked like she had bought one of every kind the shop had stocked.  “you had to?” he asked carefully.

“I wanted something sweet,” she said, turning to face him properly, “but I couldn’t remember if I had tried any of these.”

Suddenly understanding what had prompted her purchases, Aric cast his eye over the table again. Finding the bag he had been looking for, he grabbed it and held it out to her. “You liked these ones. Trev had them last time we saw him.” Aric smiled softly, “you ate almost the entire bag while you sketched.”

Taking the bag into her hands, Jurr turned it over and examined the packaging. “I did?” Aric nodded as she opened the bag and sniffed the contents, trying to stir a memory or some kind. “He didn’t mind did he?” She vaguely remembered Trev at the moment but try as she might Jurr didn’t recall him having candy with him.

“Actually, I think he brought them for you,” Aric said. He leaned against the table to watch Jurr pull a candy out of the bag and pop it into her mouth. When she smiled at the taste he continued, “he usually has some candy to share when you two meet up.”

“Oh,” Jurr sat the bag down and frowned again. “I guess he would know what I liked, wouldn’t he?”

No one in Jurr’s life had known her for as long as the Jedi had. Aric knew that it bothered her, that the people around her knew her better than she did. He’d do or give anything to be able to change that. He couldn’t fix her memory, that was sadly beyond him, but he did have an idea that might make her feel better now. It would be a bonus if it stopped her from buying an entire candy shop again.

“Get your datapad,” Aric said, pulling up a chair next to the table and starting to open the bags scattered across the table.

“What? Why?” Despite her questions, Jurr pulled out the pad and moved to sit down next to him. She squeaked in surprise when he reached out and pulled her into his lap.

“We are going test these,” he said, picking up a random piece of chocolate and holding it up to her lips, “and make a list of the good ones. That way you will know which sweets you enjoy.”

Parting her lips, Jurr let him feed her the candy and moaned at the decadent chocolate taste of it before leaning forward to catch his lips in an open-mouthed kiss. “So sweet,” she said, pulling back with a smile and licking her lips sensually. “I love this one.”


	19. Kira Carson/Jedi Knight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Maldwyn Gof and Kira Carson
> 
> Day Eighteen Prompt: “You should have seen it.”

Maldwyn frowned when he stepped into the bedroom and saw no sign of Kira. He was sure he had seen her come in ahead of him. He pushed away the urge to sigh heavily, feeling disappointed at missing a chance to be alone with her. He knew what they were getting into pursuing a relationship together, and how it was imperative it remain a secret. Because of Kira’s origins they wouldn’t be allowed to even have the sham of a relationship the Jedi Council permitted between Order members.

Having to constantly sneak around was enough to make Maldwyn consider walking away from the Order entirely. He was almost sure he would, if Kira asked.

Oh yes, he was far more attached than any member of the Council would approve of.

Stepping further into the room, Maldwyn slipped his outer robe off and hung it up on a peg. He was just bending over to unbuckle his boots when he felt something poke him in the side. It surprised him so much he lost his balance and fell over. Instead of getting back to his feet, Maldwyn rolled over on to his backside and looked to see what had touched him.

The room was empty. He was about to reach out with the Force to try and sense any other nearby presence before Kira shimmered into view. She grinned at him, laughing heartily.

“You’re face was priceless Mald,” she said between giggles, “you should have seen it.

"From his spot on the floor Maldwyn smiled at her mirth. She had been ecstatic to get her hands on a working personal stealth generator and had taken several opportunities to abuse it for her own amusement.

Kira laughed for a moment longer before reaching her hand out to help him up. "Let me give you a hand Tough Guy.”

Maldwyn took her hand but, instead of pushing himself to his feet, he pulled her toward him. Kira fell into his lap with a surprised gasp. He wrapped his arms around her, burying his nose in her hair and breathing her scent in deeply.

Slipping her arms around his torso, Kira relaxed against his chest. “Everything okay Mald?”

He sighed contentedly. “Everything’s perfect Kira.”


	20. Mako/Bounty Hunter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters/ship: Gault and Mako/Dubaku Eze
> 
> Day Twenty Prompt: “I hope you have a speech prepared.”

Mako stifled a yawn as she left the cockpit her only thoughts about how good bed sounded, before she noticed Gault standing near the railing and looking down into the cargo bay. The Devaronian turned to look at her over his shoulder and smirked.

“I hope you have a speech prepared.”

“What are you talking about?” She frowned, “why would I need a speech?”

He gestured down below them, “because someone will have to give his eulogy and I already called not it.”

For a moment Mako didn’t even want to look. Whatever mess Dubaku had gotten himself into would no doubt require more energy than she had at the moment. It was late and all she wanted was to crawl into bed.

Unfortunately for her, Dubaku usually required a bit more energy than she had. She loved him, she really did, but she had to remind herself of that fact went he went off on one of his stunts.

Moving to stand next to Gault, Mako peeked over the edge. Below, sitting at the worktable, the Zabrak hunter was meticulously painting the small droid that was in front of him. Mako gasped. That was Phil!

Dubaku was  _painting_  the small droid he shared custody of with Torian’s wife, Sadio.

“Dubaku!” she snapped, leaning farther over the railing. “What are you doing?”

Leaning back in his chair, Dubaku grinned up at them. “Giving my son tattoos of course.”

Mako heaved a great sigh and pushed away from the railing, making her way over to the stairs and down to where he was working. When she was closer she could easily see his intention, the lines of black paint did resemble the tattoos on Dubaku’s face.

“Sadio is going to kill you,” she said, placing a hand on his shoulder and giving him a little shake. “You know that, right?”

“Nah,” he brushed her hand off his shoulder and picked his paintbrush up again. “She won’t kill me, but we might need to be extra careful next time we see her. Just in case.”

Mako wished she shared his confidence, but honestly  _no one_  shared the level of confidence Dubaku had. Nothing phased the man, at least no threat to his own wellbeing. She never had figured out how he did it, but she did know she didn’t want to be anywhere nearby when Sadio saw what he had done.

“So,” she said as causally as possible, “when are you meeting with her to exchange custody?”

“Next week.” Dubaku looked up at her, “why?”

Mako smiled, making her way toward the stairs. “Nothing just thinking that might be a good time to take a personal vacation. I hate cleaning blood out of my clothes.”


	21. Vector Hyllus/Sith Inquisitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters/ship: Rugama Neiu and Vector Hyllus
> 
> Day Twenty One Prompt: “Impressive, truly.”

Rugama removed the gold hairpiece that kept her braid together and set about undoing the weave. She ran her fingers through the strands, smiling at the silky feel of them. Rugama wasn’t a vain person normally, but she was especially proud of her hair. Before she had control over her life her hair had been short, a more practical and manageable style when she didn’t have free time to tend to it. 

In the years since she had been allowed more freedoms she had taken great pleasure in growing her hair. Now it was long enough to reach down her back, almost to her waist, when she had it loose. 

When she finished combing out her braid with her fingers, Rugama reached for the bun on the crown of her head. Taking out the pins that held it in place caused her hair to tumble down her back. She sighed at the loss of tension on her scalp. It was the most relaxing part of her day, when she could let her hair down and truly relax. 

She reached for her brush, ready for the next step in her nightly routine, but another hand beat her to it.

“Allow us,” Vector said from behind her. Rugama smiled, she hadn’t heard him enter the room. The man had a way of sneaking up on her, even when she wasn’t distracted. His presence in her senses was so different from anyone else she had ever met. She had a hunch it was due to his connection to the Killik Hive mind but she had never met another Joiner with his unique situation, so she couldn’t be sure it wasn’t just a part of the man he had always been. 

Letting him take the brush, she relaxed back into her seat on the edge of the bed. 

Vector moved to sit behind her and reached for her hair. Taking a section of green locks in hand, he started gently brushing them – working from near the bottom and progressively starting the stroke the brush higher each time as he worked the tangles out. 

“You’re very good at this,” she commented, eyes closed as she enjoyed the feel of his hands in her hair. She had never had someone brush her hair for her before, at least not with this level of care. Before she died her mother would do it, but then it was a quick process and only to brush it out enough that she wouldn’t “embarrass” their masters with her appearance. 

“We used to help our sisters with their hair,” Vector said, his melodic tone soothing the remaining tension in her away. Rugama was sure she could listen to him talk for the rest of her life and never get tired of the sound of his voice. “Yours reminds us of theirs, though the color is very different.”

She laughed softly, “I’m sure. Green isn’t a common color after all.” Even among a household of slaves from across the galaxy, her hair had been a unique shade. Her mother, a woman with curly blonde hair, had said her father had hair like her’s but never had Rugama met another person with natural hair of the same color. 

“A shame really, the color suits you beautifully,” he said, moving to the next section of her hair. “It matches your aura, bright and full of life.”

“Sometimes I wish I could see the world the way you do Vector, it sounds so much more beautiful when you describe it,” she sighed, “less hard and cold.”

Vector set the brush down and moved her hair over one shoulder, baring her neck so he could press a kiss to the skin there. Strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her close to his chest. It is you that makes our world beautiful Rugama,” Vector said, his breath warm against her skin. “It is most impressive, truly, the way your aura lights up the space around you.”

Relaxing in his arms, Rugama hummed contentedly, “flattery will get you everywhere you know.”

“Is it flattery if it is honest?” She could hear the smile in his voice. 

“Yes, it is. The very best kind,” Rugama said, turning toward him and capturing his lips in a kiss. 


	22. Republic Trooper and Jedi Knight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Jurr Jiin and Cinlat's Trev Brawlin
> 
> Day Twenty Two Prompt: “I know how you love to play games.”

Jurr frowned when the line she drew didn’t look quite right. She clicked the eraser icon on the toolbar of her sketching program and cleared the line again. She had been trying to get the shape right for almost ten minutes now. It didn’t help that she didn’t really know who she was trying to draw. 

She’d dreamt of the woman several times now, with her kind green eyes and fiery hair that matched Jurr’s. It was one of those things that made the loss of her memory almost unbearable. Somehow, she  _knew_  she should know this woman, but she didn’t. Even in her dreams the only clear part of the woman’s face was her eyes. Those kind eyes that made her feel safe.

Sometimes, when she could remember bits of those dreams, Jurr imagined that was how a mother would make her feel. Not that she believed it was her mother. She didn’t remember her doctors most days so someone she hadn’t seen since the accident was sure to have been completely forgotten and that was assuming she even  _had_  a mother before the accident.

Still, she wanted a picture of the woman her mind had conjured up to fill that hole.

Jurr set her stylus down and sighed. None of the lines looked the way she wanted them too, all rough and hard angles instead of the delicate curves she had intended to make. Her therapist just that morning had told her she was improving, her art becoming more polished with practice, and that it was proof she could still learn things even if she didn’t always remember the learning process. Regardless she worried she would never be able to draw things the way she imagined them in her mind. Her art was one of the few things she had in the lonely haze of her life.

It was why she wanted to get this picture right so badly, to pretend there was  _someone_  out there that missed her.

Her single eye burned, and she rubbed at it in annoyance. She hated crying, she always ended up feeling worse then she had before and made it harder to see than it already was. To make it worse, crying was a sign of weakness no matter what her therapist said and Jurr had to be strong no matter how hard it was.

A box landing on the table in front of her startled her out of her thoughts and she jumped. Looking up she saw a boy who looked older than her, not that she knew exactly how old she was, with dark hair and a large implant along his jaw. She frowned at the way he smiled at her, strangers approaching her always made her nervous.

“What’s new, JJ?” He asked as he sat across from her.

The words had a strange effect on Jurr and almost unconsciously the tension in her body drained away. A comforting warmth spread through her and even the aching loneliness eased with his presence. She knew this boy, in a manner of fashion.

Before he could look at her datapad, she turned the screen off and tucked it away. “Nothing,” she said before smiling, “and everything. Everything is new when you can’t remember the day before.”

“That’s true,” he said with a laugh as he opened the box and laid a checkered board between them. “I’m Trev by the way. We’re friends.”

She nodded, “okay.” Her acceptance of his assertion they were friends had gotten smoother ever since he had managed to anchor a sense of familiarity in her mind. It wasn’t a perfect connection, Jurr didn’t know his name or recognize his face when he used the special phrase, but she trusted him.

“What is this?” Jurr asked as Trev was arranging the pieces on the board, 

“Novacrown,” he said, tapping the box where the name was written. “Last week I was complaining about there being nothing to do here and a nurse told me where they kept some board games. I thought we could play some more, I know how you love to play games.” Jurr sighed heavily and Trev grimaced. “Sorry.” He had gotten better about watching how he spoke to Jurr, but he still slipped up and made comments like that at times. It always affected her mood, learning that the people around her knew her better than she did.

“It’s okay,” she muttered, gesturing at the game. “I don’t think I know how to play.”

Trev grinned, “that’s okay I’ll show you.” It wouldn’t be the first time he explained the rules, nor the last, but that didn’t bother him at all. Jurr was a good, if unconventional, friend and as Master Vukosh had pointed out was helping him learn patience.

They were good for one another and as the time for him to leave drew closer, his worries grew. Who would be there for her if he wasn’t? Would anyone? He liked to think someone would, but most of the patients and all the hospital staff were adults. They were the only minors he had seen in the several months he had spent there. Not many adults would be likely to befriend an amnesiac teenager.

He hated the idea of leaving her behind, leaving her alone, but there was no way around it. Trev needed to finish his training and Jurr’s mental state was too fragile to be discharged.

In lieu of a solution he doubted existed Trev had doubled his efforts to spend as much time with her as possible. Relaxing in the garden, watching her favorite holotoons, sneaking extra desserts from the kitchen, and playing games. Anything he thought she might enjoy and would reinforce the connection he had created in her mind between them.

Finishing setting up all the game, Trev started the familiar process of teaching her which pieces could do what. He smiled at the expression on her face as she watched him with the intensity she always did when trying to learn something. Despite her difficulties, Jurr loved learning everything she could about the world around her. Once he finished his explanation, they started playing in earnest.

This time Jurr only need one game to warm up enough to beat him every time after that.


	23. Sith Warrior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Character: Tuathal Techtmar
> 
> Day Twenty Three Prompt: “This is not new, it only feels like it.” Though I totally took this one and changed it a bit.

Tuathal stared at the datapad in his hand. He knew he should go inform his parents of the letter he had received, the long-awaited acceptance to the academy on Korriban. He had worked so hard for this, ever since learning that the odd things he had noticed growing up were in fact signs of Force sensitivity.

Prior to that revelation he had been on a fast track to a promising military career. With his family’s record of service, it was only proper he be enrolled in the best schools and as the son of a Colonel and the grandson of a General his marks had to be at the top of his class. Nothing less was acceptable.

Now he had to catch up to the others, the ones who had always known this was their path and had the advantage of being from a long line of Sith Lords.

Looking at the confirmation that in a few weeks’ time he would officially be trading in his military cadet uniform for Sith robes he felt a bit queasy. Tuathal liked plans, he liked order, and this Force nonsense had thrown everything in his life into chaos.

His sudden change in station had been welcome news to his family, everyone was very proud to  _finally_  have a Sith in the family. First ever in the bloodlines on either side at that.

“And to think,” he said, “I thought I had a lot on my shoulders before.”

The expectations of his entire family rested firmly with him. Before it was to have a grand career in the military, now he was expected to thrive in the Empire’s Sith hierarchy. Even his future relationships were dictated by his responsibilities. His mother had wasted no time finding an eligible young woman from a prominent Sith family to arrange a marriage with. The hope being, of course, that any children between them would be Sith as well.

“ _It’s a new age for the Techtmar family_ ,” his mother had declared when she informed him of what she had done, depriving him of one of the few things he would before have been allowed a measure of control over, “ _one you will usher in my love_.” Then, with a quick kiss to his cheek, she had swept out of his room muttering about the wardrobe he was going to need.

Becoming a Sith didn’t change the fact he needed to make the best impression possible. It wouldn’t do for a son of the Techtmar family to be seen in anything less than high Kaas city fashion. This was nothing new, it just felt like it.

Taking a deep breath, Tuathal stood up and smoothed out the creases in his clothing. Putting off showing the letter to his parents much longer wouldn’t do. His father had a laser eye for details and would no doubt notice the timestamp on the message. That in turn would annoy his mother, who fussed that he wasn’t taking this seriously enough. As if he was ever anything but serious.

He hadn’t planned on being a Sith Lord but with the same determination that he approached everything in life he intended on being the best.

Even if it killed him.


	24. Malavai Quinn/Sith Warrior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters/ship: Eira Rees and Malavai Quinn
> 
> Day Twenty Four Prompt: “You know this, you know this to be true.”

Quinn stood in the doorway to his wife’s training room and watched her work. He always enjoyed watching her in action, her toned lithe body moving in a graceful and deadly rhythm. As much as he enjoyed watching her in the field, there was something less stressful when she was in the controlled environment of their home.

Most likely that would be the lack of people trying to kill him. It was hard to properly admire Eira’s movements when he was under fire and watching her back.

Today the training droids were only firing on her, leaving him free to appreciate her form and monitor her progress. If he had this way she would not be exerting herself so much, not so soon after her recent injury. As was typical when she was hurt the stubborn woman had tried to get back into the field as soon as possible. Quinn had managed to talk her into taking some time off but getting her to take it easy was an entirely different matter.

Despite his concerns he had to admit that she was in good form. She successfully deflected blast after blast, sensing their trajectory through the blindfold that covered her eyes. He found himself counting the deflected bolts, making a mental tally of her success.

He had counted to 37 before one clipped her upper arm. The injury made her hesitate and a second one hit her thigh. Quinn hurried over to the droid control panel to shut them off but before he could hit the red emergency button a third shot hit her square in the back and making her fall to her knees. He slammed his palm down on the button and the droids hovering around her deactivated, hitting the floor with a series of bangs that echoed through the room.

Quinn spun around to find Eira slumped on the floor, pulling off her blindfold and shaking. She was breathing hard and he could see a sheen of sweat on her skin that made him want to curse. He crossed the room quickly and knelt next to her. Stayed down on the ground while he stared examining her wounds.

Eira hissed as he touched the edge of the burn on her arm and he paused. “Are you alright my love? Should we go to the infirmary?”

“I’m not healing fast enough Mal,” she said, using the shortened version of his name that he only allowed her to use.

Moving to check the wound on her thigh, Quinn paused to look up and meet her pained gaze. “These things take time. You are progressing faster than I had anticipated.”

“It’s not enough.”

Quinn frowned at her tone. It wasn’t like her to sound so defeated. “Why are you so anxious about this?”

Eira did not answer him right away, though he could see her mulling over her answer. Carefully he helped her sit up so he could check her back. She spoke when he moved her hair, which had come loose from her workout, to drape over her shoulder.

“I have to be strong,” she said, biting out the words like it hurt to admit.

“You are strong Eira.”

She shook her head, “it’s not enough. I’ve barely gained any new strength since Voss and I wasn’t strong enough then. I need to be stronger. Strong enough to keep you by my side.”

Quinn froze behind her. Of course, he should have guessed this was the root of her concerns. It was rare that Eira directly referenced his misguided and botched betrayal, but she often said things that let him know the pain of that wound was still with her.

Moving out from behind her back, Quinn brushed her long auburn hair away from her eyes. “You were strong enough then. Stronger than I could have imagined, something I shall be eternally grateful for.”

“Do you mean that?” she asked quietly. “I know how you hate to fail.”

Quinn took one of her hands in his and pressed a kiss to her palm, “that I do Eira, to both counts. I have never been more relieved to have underestimated you.”

She sighed, “but you were right, I am not as strong as I need to be.”

“How strong do you need to be my love?”

“Enough that you never doubt me again.”

Quinn took a sharp breath at her words. He could not blame, or even be upset, at her insinuation. He would forever regret his actions against her and was quite prepared to spend the rest of his life making up for it. Cupping her face in his hands, he pushed away the pain in his chest her words had stirred up. “I never will. I am with you until the end my love, whatever that may be. You know this,” his voice caught in his throat and he frowned slightly, “you know this to be true, yes?”

“I want to, I really do, but you must admit people do tend to betray me with alarming frequency,” she said with a grim smile.

As much as he might like to, Quinn couldn’t refute that. Himself, Baras, even the Emperor had turned on his Wrath. Eira’s list of trusted allies grew shorter every day. But no one was more loyal to her than he was. He’d made that mistake once before and thanked the stars he had failed every day.

Stroking her cheek with his thumb, Quinn shifted forward to look directly into her eyes. “My loyalty is to you, and you alone,” he said firmly before pulling her into a kiss. She leaned into him, returning his kiss enthusiastically as he moved his arms around her to pull her closer to his chest. When his arm touched the burn on her back she pulled away, gasping in pain.

Quinn smoothed her hair down as she caught her breath, “we need to get you taken care of and then you, my love, are going to rest properly.”

Eira nodded, “alright, but only if you come with me.”

Quinn stood and held his hands out to help her to her feet. Once she was standing he wrapped his arm carefully around her shoulder and guided her out of the room. “My place is, as always, by your side.”


	25. Torian Cadera/Jedi Knight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters/ship: Noara Starspark and Torian Cadera
> 
> Day Twenty Five Prompt: “Go forward, do not stray.”

Noara didn’t release the breath she had been holding until she was safely alone in her bedroom. When she did, her breath came out as a ragged gasp as she collapsed against the door. With a shaky hand she reached up to touch her lips, remembering how Torian’s had felt when he had surprised her with a kiss. She’d never imagined the Mandalorian could share the attraction she felt to him. She had no delusions that she was a great beauty and knew that compared to Mando women she was almost comically scrawny.

But the way he had looked at her, the gentle way he had touched her cheek, made her heart race. For that single moment Torian had made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the entire galaxy.

She wanted nothing more than to go back to him and ask him to kiss her again, but she knew she couldn’t. That she shouldn’t.

Noara was a Jedi and that meant certain things, like romance, were not possible for her. It was too dangerous, that was what she had been taught. The path she was on, a life of service and unattachment, was one that had been placed before her when she was a child. She had received countless lectures to always go forward, do not stray, keep the course and any other of numerous ways to enforce the idea that she was a Jedi and that was a lifelong obligation. It wasn’t an occupation, it was a way of life. There was no retirement, no out clause. From the moment her parents had given her over to the Order her path had been set in stone.

Never before in her life had Noara questioned those facts. She understood her station, and she had no issues with it. Being a Jedi hadn’t been her choice, but she had always been dedicated to the path.

So why was she now so tempted to stray? What was it about Torian that challenged her firmly held beliefs in a way no one ever had before? It would be a lie to say that no man had ever caught her attention before, but this was different. Other men had always been like artwork to her, something to appreciate from afar but not to touch. She had never craved a man’s presence like she did his, never felt a desperate need to be close to them.

Noara moved her hand to touch her cheek, where his hand had been and imagined she could still feel his warmth. It made her smile, remembering how good his hand on her face had felt. She sighed and pushed off the door to pace the length of her quarters on The Defender.

It had been years since she had been able to speak to Master Orgus, his visit on Rishi marking his final goodbye, but she wished desperately she could consult him. He was the one who had told her that attachments would always lead to suffering, but she hadn’t been spared pain by remaining unattached. As she paced her hand idly traced the round scar on her stomach, a nervous tick she had picked up in the last few months. She could still remember how much it had hurt, the way Arcann’s light saber had burned inside of her. She could remember the pain of every injury she had ever received, the pain of failing to save a life that had depended on her, and lived every day with the pain of knowing that her inability to destroy the Emperor once and for all had lead to countless deaths since she had been imprisoned in carbonite.

The Jedi had taught her that suffering lead to the dark side, but if she could feel all those hurts and remained in the light how could giving in to temptation just this once tip her over the edge?

Noara stopped pacing as she reached the door again and wrapped her arms around herself. Torian had been so sweet when he had confessed his feelings for her, that he cared for her more than just as a commander or friend. He had even said he didn’t expect anything from her, just that he needed her to know how he felt. He hadn’t even objected when she had pulled away from him in surprise or when she had fled to her room after claiming to “need a minute” to process what had happened.

She really had needed that minute, and everyone one after that since she had hidden in her room. Part of her knew she could stay here, locked away, for the rest of the trip and he would understand. That he wouldn’t push her for something she couldn’t give him. All she had to do for things to go back to how they had been that morning was just to stay right where she was, but an even louder part of her mind was screaming at her to move. To go to him and throw caution to the wind for the first time in her life. For all his claims that she was reckless in battle, when it came to interpersonal matters she usually overthought things terribly.

Noara had a feeling this was a chance she didn’t want to miss out because she couldn’t stop weighting the pros and cons. She didn’t know what he was looking for, she didn’t even know what she wanted, but as the possibilities raced through her mind Noara found herself smiling and, deciding to take this chance, reached for the door.

Jedi restrictions be damned, she wanted another kiss and she was going to get it. They could figure out the rest of it later.


	26. Felix Iresso/Jedi Consular

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters/ship: Leena Jiin and Felix Iresso
> 
> Day Twenty Six Prompt: “But if you cannot see it, is it really there?”

Felix had been quiet ever since listening to Dr. Fray’s message and as much as Leena wanted to check on him, she had to respect his wishes for privacy. Honestly, she needed some time herself to digest the information that had been dumped on them. 

A Sith holocron, in his head. It didn’t seem possible. Everything Leena knew about holocrons said that was impossible to store that kind of data in a person’s mind but somehow, she knew it was true. Like the Force was confirming her fears. 

While she was waiting for him to be ready to talk Leena tried to keep herself busy. She found herself sitting down at her keybed as she usually did when she was stressed. Her fingers danced across the black, green and white keys as she played the melody by memory. She played through the song once before she returned to the beginning. This time she sang as she started to play. 

“ _We met across a great divide_ ,” she sang, her voice lilting gently along with the tune. “ _Took a running start and watched our stars collide. You shine the brightest for me_.” Leena continued to sing, about falling in love under champagne sunsets and chasing forever with the love of her life. With Felix.

She was so absorbed in her music that she didn’t notice the man she was singing for enter the room behind her. Felix had been drawn out of the cockpit, and his thoughts, but the sound of music. It had been a while since Leena had the time to sit and play. He hadn’t realized until now how much he missed hearing her music. Even with the dark thoughts plaguing his mind now, the sound of her voice eased his troubles some. 

As much as learning the truth about what happened when he was captured horrified him, part of him knew he wouldn’t have met Leena if the military hadn’t doubted his loyalty after his imprisonment. Even with how much he hated the idea of what was inside his head he much preferred being with her. 

When she sang the last few bars of the song, Felix hugged her from behind. He felt her jump slightly in surprise before relaxing back against his chest. 

“That was beautiful,” he said, pressing a kiss to her temple. 

“Thank you,” Leena said before turning in his arms to face him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a searching look, trying to gauge his mood. “How are you?”

“Honestly? I have no idea. It’s hard to imagine there being a Sith library in my head, you know?”

Leena nodded, “it does sound like something out of a holovid.”

Felix smiled, it was just crazy enough that she was right, before letting go when she moved to get up. She moved toward the door before looking at him over her shoulder, “I’m going to make some tea, would you like to join me?” 

He agreed and followed her to the kitchen. Tea had never been his thing, on Hoth caff was the only thing that kept his spirits up most days, but the milder beverage was starting to grow on him. He wasn’t sure if that was her personal tastes maturing, or because it was Leena making it for him. He sat the little table in the kitchen and watched her flit about as she heated the water and prepared the pot. It wasn’t long before she was pouring a steaming cup of tea for each of them and slipping into the chair across from him. 

Leena blew on her tea and took a careful sip while Felix just twisted the cup in his hands. She set her cup down and reached across the table to pay her hand on his. “If you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

He sighed and looked up to meet her gaze. “It’s just so hard to wrap my head around. I just wish there was a way to know for sure if she was telling the truth.” Felix’s eyes widened as he was struck with an idea, “could you sense it with your Force powers?”

Leena’s brow furrowed as she considered his request. “I could try,” she said carefully, “but I cannot guarantee I will be able to sense it. I’ve never reached into your mind before, but I’ve never sensed anything dark about you.”

“I know this might not work, but,” he shrugged and shook his head, “it’s worth a shot.”

Moving to sit next to him, Leena placed her hands on either side of his head and closed her eyes. Reaching out to the Force she took a moment to take in the room round them before gently focusing her attention on his mind. The last thing Leena wanted to do was hurt him or make him feel uncomfortable with her presence in his head. Carefully she slid through his thoughts, sensing his emotions as he felt them. Felix’s worry and fears surrounded her but underneath that she could feel his trust and love for her. 

Moving past his emotions she pressed on into the other corners of his mind, searching for any hint of the holocron. Eventually she pulled away, gently retreating from his mind to return to her own. She opened her eyes, dropping her hands, to find Felix looking at her expectantly and shook her head. 

“I’m sorry Felix, if it is there I cannot find it.” Leena took one of his hands in hers and interlaced their fingers, “I sense no darkness in you.”

“So, she was lying?” 

His hopeful tone almost made Leena wince. She wanted that to be true, but despite not finding the holocron she still believed Dr. Fray’s words. “We don’t know that for sure.”

Felix frowned, “you were in my head, I could feel you there and you didn’t find it. If you cannot see it, is it really there?”

“This is unprecedented and without knowing how they put the holocron in your mind it may be impossible to locate it.” She leaned forward and laid her free hand on the side of her face, “either way I don’t believe you are in danger from this. It’s been years and nothing has gone wrong.”

Felix smiled, leaning into her touch, “that’s true, and where better for me to be than with you just in case right?”

“Yes,” she said, happy to see his smile. “Whatever the future holds, we will face it together. I love you Felix.”

“I love you too,” Felix said before pulling her into a kiss. 

As she leaned into his kiss Leena made a silent promise to herself. A promise to do whatever she could to protect him and may the Force help Darth Ouzal if they ever met.

It would be a very bad day for him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A keybed is an instrument similar to a piano, I am picturing her here with the SW equivalent of an electric keyboard. The song Leena plays is My Good Days by Beth Crowley.


	27. Republic Trooper and Jedi Knight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Jurr Jiin and Cinlat‘s Trev Brawlin
> 
> Day Twenty Seven Prompt: “Remember, you have to remember.”

Jurr didn’t know where she was. At first, she had been annoyed, when she realized she had no memory of the dark hallway she was standing in or how she had gotten there. The floor was cold under her bare feet and the odd nightgown she was in was thin and did little to protect her from the chill in the air.

Now she was starting to get nervous and tired. She wanted to sleep but didn’t know where she would be safe.

She leaned back against the wall and tried to think but the more she focused on remembering the more her head hurt. Ignoring the pain, because she had no choice, she growled. “Remember Jurr, you have to remember.”

Saying her name made her laugh, despite her annoyance. Here she was chiding herself for not remembering where she was, or where she should be, when she only knew her name because it was on the band around her left wrist. She wasn’t sure what was wrong with her, but something had to be. Surely it wasn’t normal to recall…nothing, right?

Just as she was debating between curing up on the floor to get some rest or continuing her fruitless search the wall behind her shifted and she fell to the ground in a heap.

“Jurr? What are you doing?”

Groaning at the fresh pain in her head from hitting the floor, Jurr looked up to see a teenage boy looking down at her with a frown. She had to turn her head to see the room she had fallen into and she assumed it was his bedroom. Jurr looked back up at him and scowled. “Who are you?”

The boy sighed and held a hand out to her. Jurr eyed his hand suspiciously for a moment before taking it and letting him help pull her to her feet. Once she was standing he stepped away and turned up the light. “I’m your friend Trev,” he said before moving back to stand in front of her. He looked her over and frowned again, “did they discharge you from the medical wing?”

Jurr folded her arms across her chest, “I don’t know.” As the pain in her head grew, she winced and pressed her hand against her temple. “I just want to sleep,” she admitted, “and my head hurts.”

Trev’s expression softened, “you had surgery a few days ago Jurr, you should be in bed.”

Her single eye was fixed on the ground and Jurr shuffled her feet a little before she spoke quietly, “I don’t know where my bed is.”

“That’s okay,” he assured her, slipping his feet into his shoes, “I can show you where it is.” Trev was relieved that Jurr didn’t kick up a fuss about following him. She tended to when she had completely forgotten him. She had to be very tired to just nod and follow him out of his room.

This was the first time he had seen her in almost a week, the doctors tended to restrict her to the medical wing and her room when they had plans to work on her implants. He never knew what their plans were for her and no one answered when he asked. Even Jurr didn’t know what they were doing half of the time.

He had asked Master Vukosh about it and while he understood their reasoning, Trev didn’t feel that her being a warden of the facility was a good enough reason for them to be so secretive about what they did to her.

Whatever they did this time, it was big. Half of her face was covered in bandages and it even looked like they had shaved part of her hair. The implants peeking out from the gauze looked new and Trev forced himself not to wince in sympathy. He knew firsthand how much facial implants hurt when the skin was healing around them.

Trev didn’t know if she was supposed to be in the medical wing or not, so he led his friend back to her room. He figured the most important thing now was to get her somewhere she could rest and then track down one of the nurses to let them know she had been wandering. When they reached her room and he opened the door Jurr hesitated in the doorway. 

She leaned forward and glanced around the room skeptically. “Are you sure this is my room?”

Leaning around her to look himself, Trev nodded. “Yeah, look that’s your datapad on the nightstand and look at the posters on the walls.” Where most girls her age might have had posters of their favorite celebrities, Jurr’s walls were covered in reminders. Several told her what her name was, others explained where she was and why. An electronic board across from her bed was updated with any appointments or scheduled events she needed to be aware of. Her memory tended to fade while she slept and most mornings she didn’t know who she was, so she needed the reminders.

Jurr frowned, “something really is wrong with me, isn’t it?”

Laying a hand on her shoulder, Trev guided her into the room. “You were hurt Jurr, that’s all.”

She scoffed, “sure, I buy that.” Trev wasn’t sure how to respond to that, it always made him uncomfortable when Jurr talked about how “broken” she felt but he was saved from having to when she spotted the bed. She wasted no time getting into bed and even sighed happily when she was settled under the covers. 

Satisfied she was safe in her bed, Trev turned to leave. 

“Wait!” Jurr cried out, sitting up and fixing him with a wide-eyed gaze. “You’re leaving?”

He nodded, “I was going back to my room.”

“Please stay,” she asked, looking down at her hands in her lap, “at least until I fall asleep? I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

“You’re not alone,” he said, moving across the room to sit on the edge of her bed. “I’ll stay.”S

miling gratefully, Jurr settled back against her pillow. She took his hand in hers and squeezed it. “Thank you.”Trev squeezed her hand back and leaned against the wall to wait for her to fall asleep. Most of the time Jurr seemed not to mind her lot in life, or not really understand just how bad her situation was but this reminded him of what she had said to him the day she was trying to choose a name. 

_“I will never really know anyone, not even myself.”_

He understood why that thought scared her so much, the idea of never knowing anyone? Of not being sure who he was as a person was enough to make Trev shiver. It wasn’t something he would have ever imagined truly possible until meeting Jurr. She was so lost some days that she didn’t even know what kind of food she liked to eat. Jurr hid it well, but Trev knew everyday was a struggle for the girl. 

If only there was some way he could help. He tried his best, being patient when he reintroduced himself over and over, seeking her out when she didn’t find her way to him so she wasn’t on her own, subtly reminding her about things they had done or things she liked but it wasn’t enough.

Not when he knew that someday he wouldn’t be around anymore. Then, as much as he hated the idea of it, she would be alone again. He knew from some of the other long term patients he had spoken to that Jurr had been on Rhinnal for almost a year before he had arrived and that before him she had never shown any interest in anyone for more than a passing fancy until her memory reset. Even one of her nurses had commented on how remarkable it was that Jurr spent time with him willingly when she had gone out of her way to avoid and ignore almost everyone else around her. 

Somehow there was a spark of connection between them, even if Jurr wasn’t consciously aware of it and that thought gave Trev an idea. Master Vukosh had taught him about Force bonds and how they could be used to comfort and communicate with another person. If he could create a bond with Jurr, give her something she could feel in her mind to let her know she wasn’t alone and help her recognize and trust him it would go a long way toward giving her some semblance of a normal life. 

A plan forming in his mind, Trev smiled down at Jurr while she slept. He had a pretty good feeling this was going to work. 


	28. Malavai Quinn/Sith Warrior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters/ship: Tuathal Techtmar and Malavai Quinn
> 
> Day Twenty Eight Prompt: “I felt it. You know what I mean.”

Tuathal was, if nothing else, a creature of habit. His mornings started early with a strenuous work out, followed by a shower and the time it took to get his hair perfectly styled the way he liked it. Then he liked to meditate and get his mind clear and ready for the day ahead of him. Usually this went off without a hitch, but this morning Tuathal was struggling to concentrate.

It was Quinn’s fault. For a man who kept his emotions almost as restrained in public as Tuathal did, the Sith had never failed to sense the truth of the man’s feelings. Usually he was able to ignore the pull of Quinn’s mind but today the man wasn’t focused on a tricky report or annoyed at Vette’s antics.

No, this morning Quinn obviously had his mind on one thing and one thing only.

It must have been a dream, a particularly stimulating one. Quinn started his mornings almost as early as Tuathal did, and his excited emotions had been on the edge of the Sith’s awareness ever since. The heat of the Imperial’s arousal was burning in Tuathal’s mind, making his heart beat speed up.

Opening his eyes, Tuathal decided to give up on his meditation for a much more enjoyable activity. Reaching out the way Ma’at, his beautiful wife, had taught him he used the Force to tug on the edge of his lover’s jacket. He smiled when he sensed Quinn’s surprise at the movement before the man’s emotions turned to excited anticipation. He knew what it meant, despite the entire crew knowing the two men were lovers both were reserved enough to not want to advertise their business.

Once he knew Quinn was on his way, Tuathal stood up and moved to the side of the door to lean against the wall and wait. As always, his Captain didn’t leave him waiting long.

Masking his presence enough to hide from a Force null like Quinn, Tuathal watched him enter the room and glance around for him, taking a moment to appreciate his looks. The officer was distractingly handsome, and his uniform fit him beautifully. Moving quietly, he came up behind his lover and pulled him against his chest.

Quinn gasped in surprise at his action. “My lord?”

Tuathal trailed his hands across his lover’s chest, leaning his head down to nip playfully at the man’s neck. Feeling the way Quinn reacted to his touch always made his heart race.

“Don’t play coy Malavai,” he said into his lover’s ear, “I know you wanted this. I felt it – your arousal.” Tuathal’s hand drifted down Quinn’s chest to cup his growing erection, “you know what I mean.”

Shuddering at the contact, Quinn leaned heavily into Tuathal’s chest. “that’s no great feat my lord, I always want you.”

Tuathal laughed lowly against Quinn’s neck, teasing the sensitive skin with his lips and teeth. “Good,” he sighed, “I’d hate to think I was a passing fancy.”

Turning his head over his shoulder Quinn kissed him deeply. When he pulled back and leaned his head against Tuathal’s as he tried to catch his breath. The Sith’s hand was still on his groin, massaging him through his pants and making it difficult to remain standing. “you could never be a passing fancy my love, I am entirely yours.”

Moving to stand in front of Quinn, Tuathal cupped his face with one of his hands. Raising the other’s face to meet his gaze, Tuathal smiled softly. “You know I love you, right?”

Quinn nodded, turning his face to press a kiss to the Sith’s palm. “The feeling is entirely mutual.”

His smile turned into a more predatory grin and Tuathal stepped back, pulling Quinn with him toward the bed. “Now why don’t you tell me all about that dream that has you so worked up. You never know, I might just make it come true.”


	29. Theron Shan/Sith Warrior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters/ship: Meleri Sayir and Theron Shan
> 
> Day Twenty Nine Prompt: “At least it can’t get any worse.”

“At least it can’t get any worse.” 

Meleri almost dropped her light sabers as she whirled around to glare at the man who was, without a doubt, the stupidest person in the entire universe. “Are you  _trying_  to get us killed?”

Theron’s eyes widened at her tone. He still wasn’t quite sure where things stood between him and the Sith since his little “stunt” as she referred to it as. She hadn’t left him to die or banished him from her side, so he was willing to take those as good signs, but she had also informed him that for the time being he needed to return to his old room. The idea that she didn’t trust him to sleep in the same room with her hurt, but he couldn’t fault her for it. He was the one who tried to kill her after all.

He could see now, given Meleri’s past experiences with people she trusted (or should have been able to trust) trying to kill her, that his intentions at the time didn’t erase the pain he had caused her. It was not his best plan ever and he was learning that hindsight was a real bitch.

Instead of waiting a reply, Meleri continued ahead of him through the Iokath facility they had infiltrated. There was a computer terminal somewhere on this floor that had information they needed if they wanted to find a way to regain the Alliance’s tactical advantage that allowed them to stay separate from both the Republic and Empire. They had a tentative alliance with the Republic, but the need to stay independent was felt throughout their entire organization.

Half the people there had  _left_  the Republic to join them and Meleri was determined not to force them back.

Theron had to break into a light jog to catch up to her before she reached the end of the corridor. When he could reach, he grabbed her wrist, pulling her to a stop. “Hey, what do you mean by that?”

Meleri huffed and shook her head at him, “exactly what I said. Every time someone says it can’t get any worse, it always does. I’ve already had enough close calls on Iokath to last me a lifetime Theron.”

Frowning, Theron reached tentatively for her face, giving her plenty of time to pull away if she wanted to. He almost sighed in relief when she let him brush his fingers along her jaw. “I am so-“

She stopped him, covering his mouth with her hand. “I know, that wasn’t what I meant. It’s just been a really bad year. Actually, it’s been a bad decade for me and I don’t think we should be taunting chance like that.”

Feeling brave, Theron moved his hand to rest at the back of her neck and stepped closer to her.

“I know,” he said softly before smiling both in amusement and joy when she leaned slightly toward him. “I never thought you would be superstitious.”

Arching a dark eyebrow at him, Meleri shot him a smirk. “After all we have seen, you can’t tell me you are a skeptic. It’s saving me a lot of time to assume nothing is beyond possibility these days.”

Her words made Theron feel a swell of hope in his chest, and before he could second guess himself he asked, “does that apply to us?”

Dark green eyes studied him carefully for a long moment before she nodded slightly. “Yeah I think so I just… I might need more time Theron,” she reached up and ghosted her fingers along his jaw, mirroring the way he had touched her before she dropped her hand and stepped away from him. “Maybe when we get back we can talk about it,” she said before grinning, “somewhere you didn’t just jinx us.”

Theron sighed at her teasing, but inside his heart was racing. This is what he had been waiting for, for her to be ready to give him a chance again. He loved her, as weird as that was for him, and there was nothing he wouldn’t do to prove it to her.

He would start by making sure she didn’t have  _another_ near death experience on Iokath.


	30. Republic Trooper and Jedi Knight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Jurr Jiin and @cinlat‘s Trev Brawlin
> 
> Day Thirty Prompt: “Do we really have to do this again?”

Trev had to stop himself from laughing at the way Jurr was carrying on. He had found her in the garden, drawing on her pad, and she obviously didn’t appreciate him pulling her away from it. They went through this just about every week. While some days her memory held it was rare that she would retain much from a week prior.

Today she was huffing in annoyance as she walked, not quite stomping her feet but stepping heavier than normal. He knew he should have brought the candy with him when he went to collect her, Jurr always trusted him easier when he had a treat to share. Most days he appreciated that, but he really hoped no one else ever figured that out about her. The way it could be abused and used against her worried him.

Despite her annoyance Jurr followed him to the media room, where he already had drinks and snacks on the table. Trev moved over to the couch and was surprised to see that she had stopped in the doorway.

“C’mon Jurr, it’s almost time for the new Outlaw Nebula episode. It’s your favorite holotoon, it’s got all the good stuff. Pirates, outlaws, space battles,” he smiled, remembering how she giggled at the show every week, “plus it’s funny.”

Jurr didn’t look convinced. Instead her shoulders slumped and she frowned. “Do we really have to do this again?”

Trev frowned, this was a different reaction than normal. “What do you mean? Do you remember doing this?”

“No,” she shook her head, “but I can tell. It’s your tone. You’ve explained this before. It’s the way everyone has talks to me.” Jurr crossed thin arms across her chest, “tell me Trev. How many times have we done this?”

“A few.”

She arched an eyebrow at him

“Honestly Jurr, I don’t know. It’s not like I have been counting.”

Jurr frowned. “I don’t understand,” she said quietly, “everyone else gets tired of dealing with me. Why do you keep coming back? Why are we doing this if I am not going to remember it?”

Trev crossed the room to stand in front of her, resting his hands on her shoulders and leaning down to meet her eye. “You’re my friend Jurr and I like spending time with you. It’s okay that you don’t always remember things. It isn’t your fault. Besides, you enjoy this show.” He released her shoulders and stood up straight, grinning down at her, “or you will, once you stop being so difficult and come sit down.”

His words made Jurr drop her gaze to the floor, trying to hide the embarrassed smile on her face. She didn’t know much about her life, but she knew enough to realize that she was essentially alone. Hearing someone say they were her friend, that they liked being around her even when she was difficult made her happier than she had ever been. Well, happier than she could remember being. Out of the corner of her eye she watched him move back to the couch and sit before she followed.

Stopping to grab one of the bags of candy on the table, she flopped down next to him. “Okay, what’s this show about?”


	31. Torian Cadera/Jedi Knight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters/ship: Noara Starspark and Torian Cadera (because really, like I wasn’t going to round off the month with my favorites).
> 
> Day Thirty One Prompt: “I’ve waited so long for this.”

Noara dropped her bag as soon as she was over the threshold of her Nar Shaadda apartment. She’d never imagined she would go out of her way to get a home of her own outside of the temple but when things with Torian had started getting more and more serious it had become necessary. It was much more convenient than renting hotel rooms.

Torian was sitting on the couch, half watching an old holofilm while he waited for her. He looked over his shoulder at her entrance and smiled. “Welcome home cyar’ika.”

Returning his smile, Noara crossed the room to collapse on the couch next to him. She wrapped her arms around his waist, climbing partly into his lap, and hugged him tightly.

“I’ve waited so long for this,” she sighed, “I missed you.”

Pulling her closer and leaning down to press a kiss to the top of her head Torian nodded, “yeah, me too.”

Shifting to a more comfortable position, Noara laid her head on his chest and relaxed against him. The last few months away from him had been brutal, the war was in full swing and the Jedi council had kept her on the front lines with little time on her own. Technically right now she should be on her way to her next assignment, but she was burnt out.

She had known this was coming for a while now. Her disillusionment with the Republic had started when she learned about the weapons they had created, and then recklessly lost them. An entire planet burned, her master died and Master Kiwiiks would never be the same again because of their actions. It was like it had never occurred to them how terrible an idea creating weapons of world destroying scale was and expected the Jedi to clean up their mess when they didn’t properly secure the damn things.

It wasn’t just the Republic she was losing faith in either, but the Order as a whole. It had been several months since she had managed to break free of the Emperor’s control and the more time she had to think about what had happened the more it didn’t sit right with her. She had been put into a terrible position based on the ego of one master and a plan that anyone with any passible critical thinking skills should have been able to tell how fruitless it was.

Noara lost her freedom for over a year because of it. An entire year of her life gone. A year when Torian was missing her, worried about her. Worried she was dead and because of the secret nature of their relationship would never have been informed.

The very real possibility of that shook Noara to her core. None of her crew, not even Kira, knew about her relationship with the Mandalorian. When she died in the line of duty, something that was looking more and more likely with each battle she was thrown into, they wouldn’t know to tell him. She would just… disappear from his life.

These weren’t new worries but ones that had been on her mind for some time now. It was just getting harder and harder to push them away.

Leaning back far enough to see his face, Noara studied his features. He was so handsome, with his strong jaw and deep blue eyes. Even the scars on his face appealed to her and she loved tracing them with her fingers. And her lips. She would be more than happy to spend the rest of her life seeing his face every day.

It wasn’t as distant a dream as it felt, she could have it, all she had to do was walk away from everything she had ever known.

It was a tough choice, but if he was the reward she had a feeling it was one she could make.

“What’s on your mind cyar’ika?”

Instead of answering, Noara reached up to trace the hair on his chin. It was just long enough to be soft and fuzzy instead of prickly and she smiled when he moved his head to kiss her fingers. Moving her hand to the back of his head, she pulled him down for a kiss. “Cyare,” she said, lips brushing against his, “ni kar’am gar darasuum.”

Torian coughed, pulling away and turning his head to clear his throat but he couldn’t mask the choked laughter.

Sitting up and moving off his lap while he laughed, Noara frowned. “Did I say it wrong?”

Torian nodded, getting control of his laughter, and turned to look at her. “You were  _really_  close.”

She sighed heavily. “I’m never going to learn Mando’a at this rate.” Torian had started teaching her his language after her time as an unwilling Sith. He’d never said so, but she had a feeling it was because while she was gone he’d realized he loved her. It was one of the first things he had said to her when she returned. Like he was desperate to get it out, in case he missed the chance again.

Unfortunately, since she only saw him every few months since then their lessons had been few and far between.

“You will,” Torian said, leaning forward to brush her bangs away from her face, “it just takes time and practice.”

“Time that we don’t get,” she said, chewing her lower lip while she worked up the nerve to voice her thoughts. Straightening her back Noara looked at him seriously, “it’s time that I  _want_  Torian.”

“What are you saying Noara?”

“Do you love me?”

Torian smiled, “I do.”

“Will you say it? Please?”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and then a second to her mouth. “Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum Noara.”

She smiled and laughed happily. “I love you too. Torian I…” Noara paused and took a deep breath, “I don’t think I am going to go back this time.”

Torian’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Really?” He asked, “are you sure about this?”

She nodded, “I’ve decided to leave the Jedi and stay with you.” She suddenly looked unsure, “that is okay, right?”

“Okay? Of course, it is I just…” His voice trailed off as he searched for the Basic words to relate how her revelation made him feel. Finally, he settled for, “I wasn’t expecting this, but if you are sure about this there is nothing I could want more.”

Noara frowned, “I know it seems sudden but, I can’t so this anymore. I need to get out before it kills me, and it will kill me Torian. For the first time in my life I am doing what I need to for myself rather than what is expected of me.” She reached up and cupped his face in her hands, rubbing her thumbs across the scars on his cheeks, “I want to be with you.”

“I want that too.” Torian said as he was struck by an idea and, as there was no time like the present, asked “will you marry me?”

Dropping her hands, Noara pulled back in surprise. “What?”

He grinned, “marry me? C’mon you just said you wanted to be with me and there is no I would rather spend my life with than you.”

“Are you just trying to one up my grand gesture here?” Noara asked with a teasing smile, “or is this something you have been thinking about?”

“Since the day I realized how much I loved you.”

“Good answer Cadera,” she said. “Yes, I will marry you.”

Torian pulled her back into his lap, “that’s the best thing I’ve ever heard. We don’t have to right away, we can wait until you are ready.”

“We should do it right after I resign,” Noara said, settling herself across his lap. “What better way to celebrate me quitting the Jedi.”

“It won’t be too much change all at once for you?” Torian asked, his concern evident. The last thing he wanted was for all of this to overwhelm her. He couldn’t say he completely understood what she was prepared to do but imagined it was something akin to himself deciding to turn his back on his Mando heritage. It was unthinkable, being Mandalorian was so much a part of his identity and he knew she felt the same about her Jedi roots.

Giving that up to be with him couldn’t be easy.

“I think it will be perfect. Besides go big or go home right, isn’t that what Dubaku always says?”

Torian laughed, “it is and quitting the order and marrying a Mandalorian would defiantly qualify as going big, but I am not sure you should be taking life advice from him. I love him like a brother, but even you have to admit Dubaku is a bit of a mess.”

“So am I,” Noara shrugged. “And he does okay with Mako around. What do you say, are you up to the challenge of being the Mako to my mess?”

“No challenge.”

* * *

Noara’s Mando’a blunder “ni kar’am gar darasuum” means: I breath you forever so close, but not quite what she was going for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: This is a piece of my Outlander!Torian Au where (obviously) Torian is the eventual Outlander but their journey together starts when they meet on Taris while she is dealing with all the Republic WMDs and he is hunting his father. Someday I will finish writing that part, but until then little bits and pieces will come out whenever the fancy strikes me.


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